


Elua's Nightmare, Part III, Merrin

by Jon_of_Narva



Series: Elua's Nightmare [3]
Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: Gen, Some abnormally offensive and profane language, Torture, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 42,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jon_of_Narva/pseuds/Jon_of_Narva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing the story, completing one journey and setting the stage for the cataclysmic showdown with the Merrin on Cytheria. Synopsis; The arrival at Cytheria is complicated by meeting with Melisande, and Sidonie's unique and long-suppressed attitude towards that infamous woman. Phaing's even darker side begins to come out, and soon all are gathered together with Ptolemy Solon....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 26

 

 

Part III;  
Merrin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

26

 

“Cytheria, at last. A little behind schedule, but we made it in one piece.” Feri proudly announced.

“Are you sure about this?” Sushulana petulantly asked Phedre for the third time that day.

“Phaing… I mean, _Sushulana_ … you know its remarkable how good, how right that name sounds for you. I do wish that you would make it easier to forget the hellion that we thought of you as, when we were chasing someone named Phaing.” The three of us had discussed it the day we woke up at noon, Sushulanas body draped lightly across Imriel’s body and my own. The name did sit right on her, perfectly believable as opposed to ‘Phaing’, and had the advantage of not being a name she had used on this world ever before. That last point made her think, and accept the idea. Lady Sushulana of Velekiya, we would call her, a sorceress of the Chowat-Skaldia border region. That area was the least traveled and least understood region of Europe, even to the Unseen Guild. What we could not settle on was how to approach the situation right in front of us. “And I want you to be cloaked and as inconspicuous as possible until we have been able to prepare Melisande somehow… for you.”

“Am I really _that_ bizarre?”

Phedre did not take the bait, nor did she either roll her eyes or put her hand over her mouth as did everyone else within earshot. “Look at it this way; the first thing that is going to happen is Melisande is going to get a surprise visit from her son and daughter in-law, with no warning at all before they show up on her doorstep. The second thing that will happen is she, I, and Joscelin will come face to face for the first time in a decade and a half. The third thing is, you, and finally the news you bring.”

“Yeah, thanks so much, you make it sound like a regular crescendo of doom, with me as the punctuation. You want to see if you can wedge me in the false bottom of one of these crates?”

“ _Phaing_! You can’t…. I’m sorry, Sushulana." Joscelin took over the conversation; "Eula’s blood woman, I much prefer the way you have been these last two days than the way you have been since we sighted land. What is wrong with you now?”

It was true that her temper had abated a great deal since that night, and she had a grace about her that had been lacking before. It was not about what we had done that night (and had been too sore to repeat the next night), not entirely. We had everyone calling her by her real name, and it had a tonic effect on her. From time to time, I was still catching her looking as if she was preening a little when she was called Sushulana.

However, she was not happy or serene at this hour; “Why do you have to be involved in what happens today at all? Can’t you two stay back here with the Marines or in a Tavern, ready to come swooping down when we are in need of rescue?”

Joscelin had been leaning on a nearby railing, staring longingly at the promise of dry land. He perked up at Sushulana’s suggestion as if he thought it was a fine idea. But he made a face as he mulled her wording over. “What do you mean ‘when’?”

Phedre shook her head. “I won’t work. This is her town and she will find out about us no matter where or how we try to hide. And when she does, she will naturally assume that we are trying to deceive her. That is not something we can afford to do with the sort of story you bring, not when we are trying to get help from her, and her husband. And that man will not believe a word of it unless Melisande vouches for it.

“I’m going to have to tell the same story that it took days to tell you, twice in one day?”

“No.” Imriel assured Phaing. “We will be there to help, and Melisande will be moved to quick action if we are convincing enough. The full telling of it will probably only have to happen once, in front of them both.”

“Well… since you are the only one that has been here… fine.” Sushulana started to pace around, until I stepped into her path.

“Wait, I thought you said you had been here, a regular stop for you.”

“Cytheria is a big island, Princess. Its over 200 miles long. Sure, I have been around, but not this particular port! Paphos ain't exactly the crossroads of this end of the Southern Sea, you know. Phedre is right about me... I have been on the fringes, but rarely in the heart of your civilization.” Her hair and ears were covered by a white wrap with a black fringe that suggested raven hair underneath. Her breasts were covered by a simple white wrap, and there was nothing else until one’s eyes reached the sky-blue skirt that rode low on her hips and trailed all the way down to her heels. To avoid being mistaken for a harlot, she also had a white cloak. “And why are you looking at me like that? Its going to be hotter than hell once we get away from the water, that much I do know.”

“And here I am, wearing black.” I had chosen the less formal dress, the exposed sides provided good ventilation, but I had also appropriated one of those light cloaks. The material became dazzlingly opaque in sunlight, and nearly transparent in the shadowy interior of the ship.

                                                                                                      ***

“If any Cytherian tries to bog this down in politics or intrigue, and use this crisis for their own ends, I swear by my sword I’ll rip into ‘em like a warhorse kicking puppies around.” Sushulana groused as we tied up at dockside.

Before anyone else could say a word, I put a hand on her shoulder and said; “If need be, I will help you do just that. A _lot_.” That was exactly what was required to take the tension out of her, I could feel it. She turned her head to kiss my hand and said nothing more.

  
The wind had shifted and we spent the middle part of the day fighting a brisk headwind simply to enter the port. The hours lost necessitated a change in plans. Imriel and I would have ourselves a brisk little journey straight to Melisande’s villa, while Joscelin, Phedre and Sushulana would follow at a more sedate pace. We would be about an hour ahead of them, pausing only long enough to hire horses or a cart if we could. We would have six Marines with us, the rest would remain with the ship. The Marines coming with us would be carrying a trunk and a crate along with them, to keep up the appearance of normalcy. Normal people don’t travel without baggage, after all is said and done. What we had was not our own, of course, we'd had to leave that all behind at Rhodos.

A party of eleven left L’Indiscreet and dwindled to eight as Joscelin, Phedre and Sushulana fell behind and slipped down a narrow side-street before we had gone 3 blocks. Feri was still on the deck spinning tales for the late-coming Harbor Master as we strolled away to go “meeting with some great Lady so & so, let me dig up the papers so I can tell you what that name was again.” Feri could be a marvel of inefficiency when the occasion called for it.

We found neither cart not a pair of riding horses available for us, but something a little more unique to the region. A massive plow-horse was paying for his retirement by giving a lift to newcomers, two at a time. I had never seen such a huge animal, and his legs ended with hooves as big around as a serving platter. I think he must have stood 18 hands, mounting up would have required a ladder had we been doing it the normal way. Instead, there was a low-slung chair on either side of the harness across his back, so low that they were easy to climb into, and Imriel and I could just barely see each other’s heads across the beast’s broad back. A few rocks loaded into a shelf under my seat balanced the load, to the satisfaction of the grinning teen-age boy who would lead us to where we were going. He ceased grinning so freely when we told him our destination.

The journey went on for some time. The former draft-horse was not straining in the least bit under our weight, but I do not think that those tree-trunk legs of his had ever moved at a pace that a tortoise could not match. So it seemed to me at the time, as we drew nearer to Melisande one plodding step at a time. The heat was smiting, but our gaily decorated mount sported parasols that shielded us from direct sunlight. With the distance between us, Imriel and I could not converse about anything we did not want to allow the boy leading our horse to overhear. We could not even hold hands comfortably however we tried. Thankfully, there was much to see, and comment on.

Cytheria is older than Kyrnos. It had been used for a very long time, I saw many rocks peeking out through the vegetation as if the soil itself had diminished over the centuries. Things had a dusty and brittle feel to them. Unlike Kyrnos it did not feel so old and worn out, more like a place that had gained a second wind. Roads and retaining walls were in good repair, there were little dams across some of the gullies in the hillsides. The last rain would have been during the previous week’s storm, yet the grass appeared green and thick, rather than overgrazed and sallow. I mentioned this to Imriel, and he thought it must have something to do with a few generations of careful Akkadian rule, or it may have been thanks to the Governor himself…. the very man we had traveled the length of the southern sea to meet.

This was the first time I had seen Hellenic ruins. In contrast to structures left over from the Tiberian Empire, they seemed squat and plain and first. Looking again, I saw more of the simple & elegant lines and proportions. They made the Tiberian structures look over-done, gaudy, a little clumsy. These Hellenic creations reminded me of how Favrielle’s dresses looked next to the other things in my wardrobe, back at the Palace. That in turn reminded me of how I wished I was wearing one of those dresses now, to meet my Mother-in-Law.

When the Villa came into view, I started thinking about meeting her, Melisande, at last. The reality itself was before me, and the reason for our being here fled my thoughts, there suddenly was no room for it.

Melisande, infamous in Terre D’Ange as the Traitor for good reasons, even if very old ones. She had tried to use a foreign Army to take control of the Kingdom, many thousands had died. Later, she had tried to take control by merely killing my mother… before I had been born.

So, yes, if her schemes and come to fruition, any of them, I would not exist.

  
Much had happened since then, and one in particular stood out in my memory at that moment. My relationship with Imriel had once been so controversial that my mother had been forced to announce her support… her highly _conditional_ support… for us, in a formal court hearing. On that occasion, the Hall had been half-filled by people who did not wish us well, wanting to soil our happiness for the sake of old grudges. No, I did not see them with the same equanimity that Imriel did, I was silently furious with them. What angered me most was how they wore their black bands of mourning, shields against logic and the promise of new life, against our very happiness. I wanted to ask them if they had been wearing those silly, grisly black bands for the last quarter century, or if they simply strapped them on because they thought they went with the season.

From that time on, I was ready to see Melisande in a different light. From afar, she had great influence over our lives. Without her help, we might still be under the evil, enslaving spell of Carthage. Yes, I could not help but be grateful, and even more than that, I was so very curious. _Nemesis_ … it had become something of a joke between myself and Sushulana to call each other that. Neither of us had set out to be that to each other, fate had forced our hands, and we had moved past it. Melisande had deliberately charted a course that had made her the worst enemy my Mother and Phedre had ever faced. Their nemesis, and it was no joke.  
Before I was ever born…

Now, the reality was that we were about to burst in upon this woman, coming straight from L’Indiscreet and that ship’s enigmatic cargo of fate. I had wanted to meet her with a grandchild she could marvel at, gifts carefully chosen and clothes that were my own!

Trivial? No, even though I had never met her, I already understood that there was nothing trivial about Melisande Shahrizai.


	2. 27

 

 

27

Word had traveled ahead of us, _just_ ahead. I believe that Melisande had just enough time to observe our approach, compose herself, and leave whatever she had been busy with to meet us. Meet us she did, the doors to the villa opening just as our Elephantine horse came to a halt in the courtyard. Imriel leaped from his chair before anyone could help him down and dashed around the head of the horse to find that I had done the same thing. We turned to the open doorway, and there she was. Melisande had not retreated to some inner parlor to welcome us, she was right there.

Passing one hand over her mouth, and then making a fist of under her chin, she beamed at us as we quickly climbed the stairs. Whatever Imriel was going to say was smothered in a hug that took us both by surprise. First Imriel, then myself, and then she held me out at arms length by my shoulders and looked me up and down… almost the way anyone else would. Yet I felt it, she was looking into me as well, and my good humor was preserved by the fact that she appeared to like what she saw.

“Oh, Imriel, she’s wonderful! Dear Princess, welcome-“

“Please call me Sidonie.”

“I see, yes, of course.” Her eyes flickered between us, and the Marines. “How long do we have before whatever emergency that brought you here needs to be attended to?”

She had seen through it all before we even dismounted, and was _still_ so glad to see us! I could have fallen to my knees right then and there, yet she was already propelling us into her home with a wonderfully warm smile still on her face.

“About an hour, if we are lucky. Mother, I-“

“Oh, please my son, whatever it is, it brought you both to me. Let’s spend this hour wisely. Sidonie dear, do you like white wine?”

Her yearning to know us spoke to me, and for the next hour I did my best to forget everything else. The three of us had a wonderful hour of mundane, domestic and cherished conversation, and somewhere along the line we forgot to mention that Phedre and Joscelin were coming this way. Soon we found ourselves seated at a small table with Melisande on an intimate little balconey that had no view; the foliage around us was too tick to see out of, or into from anywhere on the island.

Melisande had a presence all her own. The concept of ‘presence’ has been explained to me, yet I had never experienced it's impact for myself. The extraordinary people in my life were those I had grown up with, familiarity with them left me dulled to it, and unprepared for what radiated from Melisande. The difference between what I expected and the reality was; this was so much warmer, so personal, and unless Imriel was under some sort of spell, that part of it was all very real. His eyes told me so as he looked back and forth between us.

_'Still_ ' beautiful is what people would say, as if that could do her justice. Regal is a word I would use, and I know something about that word. Yes, there were lines, her skin was faded a somewhat... and how not? Given the climate, she looked remarkable without appearing to be a shut-in either. Perhaps she was living a mainly nocturnal life. The silver-white streaks in her hair only emphasized the Raven curls that remained, which she wore long and loose.

I did most of the talking, and little of it was about any of those great adventures. Our personal lives, mostly, and that will remain personal, even from you, dear reader. For one glorious hour the closest we came to our adventures that was when Melisande asked me if my dress reflected what the current fashion was Terre D’Ange, and I nearly purred when she reached out to stroke the fabric, only to find that it was short, perfectly groomed fur.

“Oh… dear, you must be perishing in this heat.” She said with some concern.

“Hardly. We have chased the heat of summer to your very doorstep, and I have done naught but sit in the shade all day long.” I hesitated, and then simply asked; “Do you like it?”

“It is lovely, very daring, and I have never seen the like before... all of which sums you up perfectly.” Her naked praise left me speechless, which was just as well. Melisande nodded at Imriel, who was smiling and proud, as only a son who’s wife has won the approval of his Mother can be. “Look at him.” I had no difficulty doing so, and held his gaze as she spoke. “My son was a wreak when he came here last, frantic and nearly out of his mind with worry for you. He was so out of sorts that I nearly advised him to abandon his former life and stay here.” Imriel’s smile vanished, and returned as she continued without a pause. “Risking everything I had left in the world to help him go do what he must, that was the best decision I have ever made in my life. Look at him now, magnificent! Not a soul would question his loyalty, not only to you, but to all that is good and right in this world. I wish you could see yourselves together; the Sun Princess and the Prince of Tall Trees, indeed.”

We sat basking in her words, and in each other’s gazes. It was not right away that we noted her wording of his title. I might not have noticed it at all, it was Imriel who’s eyes went glassy, lost his smile and turned slowly to look upon his mother. “You _know_?”

I looked at Melisande myself. Our precious hour was over, her mask of imperturbability was up as she sat back and assumed her role as the Spider Queen sitting in the center of her web. “A copy of a fascinating letter arrived a few hours before you did.”

Imriel and I glanced at each other, and said at the same time, “Hrolvath.”

  
She nodded. “I was fortunate to have the time I did, my Skaldic is a somewhat disused. It was so sweet to see Phedre’s handwriting again… had it been almost anyone else, I would have discounted it as an absurdity. That, and even more so, Hrolvath’s counter-claim on what actually happened, but I see by your faces that he was the one telling the whole truth… insofar as he knows it.”

I closed my eyes. “Hrolvath is one of yours too, we should have known. Claudia sent us straight to him!”

Melisande allowed herself to sound unhappy. “Oh, son, I know you had your reasons, but its bad that you told your wife about us. It is….. bad.”

“It was inevitable, and you know it.” Imriel flared. “After what we have been through, you had to have guessed it.” He wasn’t angry, merely trying to get past that mien of hers.

“I do know, but speaking of it, even in my house is not helpful. Let us try to avoid that, shall we?” She cocked her head and a faint smile came to her lips. We could hear it as well; hooves, and the sound of a carriage climbing the slope. “Phedre and Joscelin, and one other.”

“Yes…. One other.” Imriel grated, and out of concern for his Mother and battering her bearing was bound to take, he added; “The author of that note, whom we captured last week on Rhodos.”

Melisande arched an eyebrow at her son. “And you brought her here?”

  
“It seemed like the thing to do. She was already headed this way.”

  
She rose swiftly and kissed her son in each cheek. “Thank you. And, dearest Imriel, no matter how dire this all seems to you, remember that despair is for amateurs. With all of us working together, what can possibly stand against us?”

Melisande straightened abruptly as she saw Imriel and I exchange glances. We already knew of something that might do more than just _stand_ , but could swallow us whole without a second thought.

“They are nearly here, why don’t you both go meet them at the door, that seems to have a rather sweet effect on people.” She was already striding away, and said over her shoulder; “I will be waiting in the reception area right before the dining hall. You recall where that is, Imriel?”

“Oddly enough, yes, I do, Mother.” He said with a wry smile, one Melisande paused to return in just the same way, and then vanished into her house.

 

“She _knows_.” Those were the first words out of my mouth when we greeted Joscelin and Phedre at the door. Mercifully , Sushulana was looking over the team of horses that had hauled the light carriage up the hill, and giving the teamster a tip. I spoke quietly; “Hrolvath forwarded your copy of her message and his story here, it arrived this morning.”

“Nothing more?” Phedre asked in the same tone, looking faintly amused. I shook my head, and wondered at how she must be looking forward to matching wits with my mother-in-law once more. She continued; “We passed by an orphanage on the way here, _she_ insisted on paying a quick visit and making a donation. Oh, Sushulana is very good with children, even the irascible ones, but after we left I think she nearly went to pieces. She was hunched over, leaning on a wall as if she was going to be sick. I did my best to comfort her. I lack your touch with her, she suddenly went back to being all rigid, like hot iron."

"No!" I looked over at Sushulana, or was she back to being Phaing again?

"No, no, she’s alright now, but ever since, she has been glancing skyward, searching.”

I did so as well, I could not help myself. “And what are your feelings?”

“I feel that I have the last piece to the puzzle right in my hand, but its still not fitting together. Sidonie, we are so close, but the real truth is still hidden from us.”

“Lady Sushulana,” Imriel called out. “Unless you are thinking of inviting them to dinner, we should be moving on.”

She turned away from the horses and hurried up the stairs to join us. “Does that mean you are all finished talking about me behind my back?” She started to smile up at us, and then grimaced at Phedre. “I’m _fine_ , lets get this dinner-party rolling, I’m famished.”

 

This time, without Melisande present to absorb my attention, I sensed that there was much life in this Villa, and it was all scurrying around to peek at us and then avoid our notice. That all ceased once we entered the reception chamber, a room that rivaled my home in it’s tasteful, distinctly D’Angleine decor. The lady herself stood with one arm on the back of a soft and inviting chair, the very picture of elegance in an embroidered robe thrown over a cream-colored dress. If I didn’t know she had only had minutes to prepare, I could have sworn that she had been awaiting us for some time. Her facial expression, too, was the picture of elegance, only a slight catch of breath marking her first sight of Phedre.

“You had time to prepare her, I see.” Sushulana whispered, eyes shifting to Phedre and then Melisande.

“She already knew.”

Sushulana fell back, steps slowing as she grumbled to herself.

Melisande stepped towards Phedre with perfect elegance until she noticed Sushulana and checked her stride. Her highly observant ways did her wrong this time, feeding her too much strangeness at once. She even took a half-step back. The supremely composed poise she had put on to greet them with was damaged as she looked directly at Sushulana for the first time. “ _What_ … who is that?”

The phrasing of that question demonstrated how badly Melisande had been taken by surprise, and it also did a thorough job of irritating Sushulana. “That?” She yanked the head-covering off and turned her head to give Melisande a look at her ears. “ _That_ is named Sushulana, is hungry and thirsty, and has a great deal to tell you  & yours about, so if you please-“

Phedre spun about and fixed the _Alfar_ with a heated, imploring look, and Sushulana subsided.

“Well, yes, it is nearly diner hour.” Melisande offered, reminding us how late it was already.

For her part, Phedre’s composure nearly matched that of Melisande, until she smiled and took her arm in her own. Pretending not to notice how the _anguisette_ shuddered, Melisande half-turned and offered her other arm to Joscelin. The scowl in the face of the Queen’s Champion softened but did not disappear as he allowed our host to lead him and his beloved to the Dinning room.

“Aw, what the hell.” Sushulana said softly and slipped in between myself and Imriel and linking arms, marching us after our elders in an identical formation. Thus is was that we were seated at the 6-place setting with the men on one side, Phedre and myself on the other, and Melisande and Sushulana facing each other down the long axis of that marble table.

The room itself was another marvel. The sunset view was perfect thanks to sheets of fabric that blocked the very place where the sun’s harshest rays would have been coming from, and allowed us to see the rest of the colors of the day fading to night. The sound of a harp reached us from some discreet location outside, and a pair of songbirds serenaded each other from gilt cages hung in the windows.

It was difficult for Melisande to look away from Sushulana at first, even with Phedre seated at her right hand. Whatever she had wanted to say first was swept away by her curiosity. “Welcome to my home, Phedre, Joscelin…. Sushulana.” Her eyes glittered with something I could not identify as she stared into Sushulana’s eyes. “Please, let me hear this correctly…. they captured you?”

“This one did.” She nodded at me, and I did my best to keep my smile as small as possible. “She hit me and I hit the floor, and that was about all there was to it.”

“Truly?”

Sushulana shrugged. “Mages are not so great at close quarters. I dare say she could put you on your back too, if she had a mind to.” She may have been a terrible liar, but she could step around the truth adroitly enough. She had also laid the word Mage out in the open.

Melisande followed that trail like a bloodhound. “You may be right, t’would be tragic to find out.” She smiled at me, and I managed to avoid showing a blush. “A _Mage_ , you say? A combative one, I think, and that is a new concept to me. While I admit to only a passing acquaintance with those arts. magic that I am familiar with involves ceremony and a great deal of preparation. It is hard to see how such knowledge would be useful in a fight. Those do tend to happen very quickly.”

Sushulana nodded judiciously. “I see. Yes, in order to accept incredible testimony, you need to see something incredible.” She frowned at the songbirds, and cut off Melisande’s protest by saying; “That blue one is off-key, not exactly complementing the music, is it? Looks sick to me.”

Melisande turned to look at the bird while Sushulana pointed at it. I saw a barely perceptible bit of light streak from the Alfar’s finger, and the bird was promptly blown apart. There came a startled cry from the doorway, and Sushulana turned and threw something like a white sphere from a hand that had been empty a heartbeat before. A serving girl was standing there, she started to drop her tray when she saw something coming at her. The fall of the tray and the girl’s retreat was arrested by a webwork of glowing white strands that held them both very still, locking them in place in the doorway. We all looked at Sushulana with startled eyes, and saw her hovering several feet above her chair, legs crossed and hands on her knees.

  
“That wasn’t very nice of me, but I assume that no more of these vulgar displays will be required? Yes, good, because they tell me to be brief and to the point, and I have the feeling that time is running out. An insane Dragon has followed me to this world of yours, and on my own I don't stand one chance in three of besting him.”

“ _Phaing_!”

She ignored Phedre and maintained her visual lock on Melisande. “I wasn’t coming here to beg help from you or your husband. I wanted to come here to give you both a chance to help save the your people from a fate worse than death. Shall we get to it?”

None of us had seen anything like what Sushulana had just done, magic that we knew of was just as Melisande had said; theatrical and long in the making. With a couple of gestures and a few whispered words, the Alfar had shown us something new and deadly. Had she only done all of that to 'get to it', or because she wanted to put someone as formidable as Melisande in a certain frame of mind?

She never done that with the rest of us.

Sushulana gave us all a chance to recover, except Melisande. They stared at each other, Sushulana’s intensity vs. Melisande’s composure, and the later had been cracked ever so slightly. “I need to write a message to my husband. I need to ensure that he is able to meet us in the morning.” Here eyes were clam, only a slight quaver in her voice betrayed her nervousness.

“Dictate it to me and I’ll see that he gets in in less than a minute.” Sushulana offered.

Melisande rose, paused, and smiled. “Now that is a trick would like to see.” She glanced at the doorway. "If you would not mind?"

Sushulana nodded and warned the frightened girl before releasing the spell. The servant was able to catch the tray, but the appetizers went spilling to the floor. "Don't mind those, fetch us some paper and ink. Sia, you will be only one serving us tonight." As Sia scurried off, Melisande asked Sushulana; "How did you know she was one of my more trustworthy and secretive of assistants, one that can be trusted not to reveal anything she sees or hears?"

"I didn't even know she was there until after I blasted your Bird." Sushulana said as she lowered herself to her chair.

All of us still at the table sighed, Joscelin and I with our palms to our foreheads and Phedre looking down at her lap. Imriel kept his eyes on Sushulana as she accepted the paper and wrote the brief note Melisande dictated. We were then treated to Sushulana doing some careful casting right before us. She folded the paper, folded it again and then again until it had been reduced to the size of a small bird. She was cooing a set of words that were almost like a nursery rhym all the while, finishing with; "Ptolemy Solon."

The paper bird did not come to life, exactly, but it did fly away. It gained speed so rapidly that my eyes could not track it after it passed through the window. "Very good. Do you always conceal the words of spells in among poetry or other mutterings?" Melisande had moved away, strolling around the table in a casual way while Sushulana was still finishing her spell. I saw Phedre showing the original message to Melisande as she passeed behind us, holding it beneath the table out of sight of Sushulana. Our hostess nodded and sat down, having seen with her own eyes that Sushulana's handwriting matched that of the 'Phaing' that had written the letter that started all of this.

"Yes, I do my best to keep words of power to myself, its an old habit. Not that it would do anyone much good to have just those, the whole exercise is similar to doing algrebra in your head with a constantly shifting set of variables. The spoken words are just a memory-jog, a crutch... just enough in themselves to get people in trouble."

"And you say we are in real trouble here, yet it is hard to follow." Melisande sat back down and focused on Sushulana with every bit of her considerable intelect. "Ah, I see the soup is coming, would you care to enlighten me over our meal?"

The four of us had much practice at taking turns telling a complex story, but even so a good deal was left out in the next two hours. A little pressure on Imriel's foot was all that was needed to prevent him from mentioning the Unseen Guild. Sushulana spared herself nothing when it came to her background, she said she wanted people here to understand why she might loose her temper at times. At Melisande's prompting, she even added details about her mother; "Rich daughters of mercantile families don't have many marketable skills, so she turned to prostitution at times. To keep me away from it she sent me to the only place she could afford, it was for deaf kids. That's where I learned to read lips and do a little sign language." She grinned at Phedre and myself. "Yeah, I actually kept my mouth shut all day long, can you imagine?" Her looks at Melidansde showed that she was not extending the same trust to her that she had in us. "She was building up a stash, enough cash to get us out of that place, but a gang showed up looking for her money and ended up beating her to death before she could tell them anything."

"You were there." Melisande stated, not questioning the fact as she saw it.

Sushulana's clipped, military tone slipped a notch. "Yeah, she managed to hide me in a cubbyhole that was a better hiding place than her cash was stashed. Didn't see nothing, just heard things, too chicken to come out and try to .... save...." She blinked furiously to clear her eyes, for the first time I saw one tear escape, and she shook her head to make it fly away. The four of us leaned in to say something or make a gesture, or in my case to reach out to her. Sushulana snapped the fingers of both hands and held her palms out to us, her gaze still fixed on Melisande. "It means nothing,  _I_ mean nothing. Its your problem that matters here, and its pretty damn humongous." She flashed a grin showing many teeth at Melisande. "You see straight to the truth, that's good, that's  _very_ good. Keep doing that, it may be the saving of all of you. So just keep at it, hone your talent on a non-human, my ego can take a lot of this sort of treatment without any worries for you."

"You... _want_..." Melisande was well and truly shaken by this point, Sushulana's brutal honesty, tactlessness and disregard for her own image in the eyes of others was something we had needed nearly a week to assimilate. Melisande was getting it all at once. She glanced at Phedre who gave a tiny, barely perceptible shake of her head and looked down at her lap again.

What could have been the longest and most uncomfortable silence I have ever witnessed was broken by a bell ringing in a certain pattern. Melisande blinked away from her staring contest and mused; "A reply already?" She nearly got up, thought better of it, and called out; "Bring it to me in here, if you please."

Sia, a tall & dark Ephesian, brought a scroll in and put it down next to Melisande's table setting. I had not heard Sia make a sound of any sort since the first gasp she had made.

My mother in-law read the note, while the rest of us silently gave up a prayer of thanks to Elua for a distraction from what had been happening just before the message arrived. Sushulana was perhaps the exception, and her mood was not helped by what the message had for us.

"We are granted an audience, tomorrow afternoon. My husband will welcome us with a late lunch in the hour of-"

"Tomorrow afternoon?!" Sushulana rose, more agitated than ever and leaning on the edge of the table with splayed hands. Her voice grated menacingly. "This is unacceptable."

"Oh, please pull yourself together." Melisande slapped the parchment to the table and shook her head. "It takes hours to travel to where he is-"

"An hour and a half, by my count."

Melisande continued as if Sushulana had not interrupted her; "-and I do not exaggerate when I say he has been terribly busy of late. He is practically besieged by people wishing his aid, and in this last week it has become worse than ever. It would appear that word has come out that he has certain talents, and that he is also something of a do-gooder, as _some_ would say. Tales do have a way of spreading." And at that, her gaze swept over Imriel and myself.

_Whoops_... as some would say.


	3. Chapter 3

 

28

  
  
  
Sushulana did not care about any of that. "Fine, I'll go myself, sit on the edge of his bed and tell him a nice little story if that's what it takes."  
  
"No!" Imriel said, as did his mother at nearly the same instant. Joscelin winced, looking at Phedre as Melisande continued;  
  
"You dare not, and I won't tell you where he is in any case."  
  
Sushulana took that as a challenge. "Not the big palace..." She glanced at Imriel, who held up his hands helplessly. He had only seen Solon in one place, and if he was not in his residence there were no known options. The dark _Alfar_ pondered a moment. "Besieged... the fortress overlooking the bay?" Melisande normally gave nothing away, yet she had been rattled that evening. Her hand tightened on a paring knife just enough for me to notice it, as did Sushulnana. Instead of triumphant, she was angry again. "Well _shit_ , breaking into that place would be something of an act of war, wouldn't it?"  
  
Imriel relaxed and leaned back, nodding thoughtfully. "In my experience, sovereign nations tend to frown on that sort of thing."  
  
"Wonderful." Sushulana sagged in her chair. "You win. I just hope we stay lucky by sticking with y'all's way of doin' things."  
  
"How close is he?" Phedre lifted her head and shot Sushulana a hard look. "Merrin, is he here?" The _Alfar_ shrugged. "You have been acting like he is breathing down your neck since we arrived. You can track him across worlds, so you must know. Tell us, we have the right to know _this_ above all."  
  
"Sure you do, but I can't give you anything but feelings now. Tracking his unique signature through the overworld is one thing, but now that I'm immersed in your little world, its not so easy. and if he has his mind-bar up ain't nuthin' nor nobody can sense him."  
  
"Be that as it may, thank you, Lady Sushulana." Melisande spoke softly.  
  
"Huh? For what?"  
  
"Oh, many things. Your efforts on our behalf, being so forthcoming, and most recently for not going off to have your premature meeting with a Governor of this Island. It is a great relief to know that I have an unpredictably violent Sorceress under my roof that _can_ , at least, be reasoned with."  
  
I bit my tongue, wishing there had been time to warn Melisande about Sushulana, and her ways. The _Alfar_ thumped her head against the back of the chair and left it there. "Well, that's it then. I suppose we are done for the night."  
  
And not a moment too soon, but Melisande had other ideas. She clapped her hands and Sia returned. "I have a suite of rooms prepared for the four of you, it is my fond hope that you find everything suitable to the most refined D'Angeline tastes. In the morning I will have baths ready and clothes will be laid out for you to choose from."  
  
"And what about me?" Sushulana asked through a testy sigh.  
  
"You?" Melisande said, flowing to her feet with a Cat-like grin on her face. "And what of me? I'll not be sleeping tonight after what you have given me to ponder, uninvited and without warning. I feel the need for some diversion... and I have a play-room, the Dungeon downstairs equipped with all sorts of wonderful accessories."  
  
Phedre gaped up at Melisande, her face flushed, and Joscelin's hands flashed to his Daggers. However, it was Sushulana that her eyes were focused on. Exotic eyes opened slowly, and she did not have to say _challenge accepted_ out loud.  


 

***

  
  
"Gods, I _hate_ that woman!" Phedre growled.  
  
The next morning, Sushulana swept through our rooms in the wake the servants who brought breakfast. With barely a word she rummaged through the crate that was our pretend-luggage, which was filled with things that were mostly her cargo. She laid out the dresses we had made together on top of the ones Melisande sent up. Then Sushulana gave armloads of Melons to the servants and took a bit of cargo herself; a thick sheaf of expensive parchment. "You all can relax a little longer if you like, I think I can keep her busy for another hour." She started for the door, then came bouncing back to give Imriel and I a kiss on the cheek before dashing off... wearing the same clothes she's had on the night before and oblivious to our winces and wide eyes.  
  
A moment later, Phedre came in, , threw the dress I had sewn for her on L'Indiscreet back into the crate, then made her pronouncement about Sushulana and retreated the side-room she shared with a haggard Joscelin. I doubt they slept much, Imriel and I had tossed and turned half the night ourselves, and that was when we resolved that we would never repeat the _menage' a' trios_ that had happened on the ship.  
  
Sushulana had apparently been granted her wish, she had experienced some of things that Phedre had, and appeared none the worse for it. Restored may have been a better word... at the hands of Imriel's mother. She had not even looked at us at the end of that dinner, merely bidding us goodnight and letting Melisande lead her away.  
  
Imriel sat up in our bed and stared at the door Phedre had slammed shut. He looked more upset than ever, now. "I have never heard her use that word before... _hate_... but I am afraid she may have meant it."  
  
"Don't look at _me_ , dear husband. I'm not so sure about being that little lunatic's advocate anymore. Not after this."  
  
He put an arm around me and helped me to sit up as well. "I can certainly understand that, but do you think you can pretend to be for a little while longer?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I can see it in your eyes, you really do want to wear that dress, don't you?"  
  
So help me, I really did.  
  
The truth of our feelings dawned on Sushulana when she saw the looks on Phedre and Imriel's faces as we all met an hour later in a open-air hall. That, and the elaborate green & white dress Phedre wore in preference to what we had created together made her stiffen up and start to stammer something... until Joscelin stepped up and bent to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you."  
  
That pointed reminder of Joscelin's misgivings about the special understanding between Phedre and Melisande helped calm Phedre and Imriel a little, and then the appearance of Melisnade herself did the rest of the job. Outwardly, she was all business, regal and serene. Inwardly, even _I_ sensed something else. Her fingers had a slight tremor, and her glances at Sushulana had a furtive quality cast through eyes surrounded by dark shadows that no amount of rice powder could hide. The both of them smiled at my purple-black dress, for different reasons.  
  
"Ah, so you found this item acceptable after all?" Sushulana asked.

  
Melisande stepped in close, observing the shifting color the material with a critical eye. "Where in the world did you find this?"  
  
"Not _this_ world." Sushulana smiled, relishing another chance to fluster Melisande. She pointed up at the blue sky, and made a mistake. "You see that gap between the big Star and the smaller one just under it? Out past that is a-"  
  
"You can see the stars, _during the day_?" Melisande and Phedre both approached her, on either shoulder, overcome with curiosity and amazement, yet in a way that Sushulana had not intended. I was not surprised by yet another strange aspect of her, but I was flummoxed by the notion that Sushulana had forgotten that we could not see as she did.  
  
What was _wrong_ with her? More to the point, what was it that had her too distracted to think clearly? Oh, yes... Merrin... what a fine thing it had been, to forget him for a little while. I kept my eyes on the sky during the ride to Paphos Harbor, and it was not stars that I was watching for.  
  
For her part, Sushulana merely cursed and dropped her arm. "Aw, just forget it. Lets go and let the Clever Ape get a good look at your little pet freak, and get this over with." She pulled her headwrap back on and lead the way to the front door. She only went for a short distance before she was intercepted by Sia. That young woman was as silent as ever, yet there was a new bounce to her step and she was smiling warmly at Sushulana. Sia raised her hands and her fingers flew in some strange patterns, for a moment I thought that she had learned some sort of magic from Sushulana... and I was right, in a manner of speaking.  
  
Sushulana responded in kind, tilting her head at Melisande, who herself now started to make those peculiar gestures, and back and forth it went as the rest of us watched. I smiled when I realized a conversation was taking place, and by that time Sia kissed Sushulana's cheek and dashed away.

  
Melisande put a friendly hand on Sushulana's shoulder. "Thank you." She explained to the rest of us; "Your friend here spent the better part of the night teaching us both sign language, and a little about reading lips as well."  
  
"If I ever find out who cut that girl's vocal chords... oh, _hello_?" Sushulana stopped when Phedre stepped in front of them with had an expression that made it look as if she was frowning with the left side of her face and smiling with the right side.  
  
" _That_ is what you were doing, and you let me think--"  
  
"All good things come in their time, dear Phedre." Melisande purred as she swept past. For her part, Sushulana paused for only a moment, sticking her tongue out at Phedre before following Melisande. She made a tiny "hmph!" noise as she did so.  
  
Joscelin stepped up to Phedre and whispered; "Why is she tryng so hard to keep you at a distance, mayhap to preserve your objectivity?"  
  
"Something of the sort, I believe." Phedre responded. Her voice had not a trace of pique, but a considerable amount of pity. "Gods, you don't think she wants _me_ to be the one to hold the pointy end of a dagger to her throat, should it ever come to that?"  
  
  
Melisande had a carriage with room for us all, ready and waiting for us. It was a very comfortable conveyance, which was all to the good since our journey was to be fraught with delays and frustrations. The carriage was a work of art, a white lacquered body with black scroll work, and large wheels for a smooth ride. Melisande folded down a seat in the middle, facing the door, and Sushulana sat at the very rear. She did not want anyone sitting behind her back, not even the Teamster, however this also put her in highest seat and most noticeable to any observers. Phedre and Joscelin claimed the seats facing backwards, at the front, leaving the seats flanking Sushulana to Imriel and myself. Only 2 of our Marines had any skill riding horses, and so a pair of Melisande's men also rode ahead of the carriage.  
  
The frustrations came from the delays we encountered. The easiest street to the Fortress was torn up by men re-seating the cobblestones. This is a common bit of maintenance that we thought little of as we detoured around it, until we found a wagon overturned amidst a crowd of agitated merchants in our path. Ten minutes later, we were halfway down a narrow street when we rounded a curve and nearly ran into the rubble of a worm-eaten building that had collapsed hours before. Backing up a carriage pulled by 4 horses is no simple matter, and all of this happened at midday, when the sun was directly over our heads. Instead of half an hour early, we would be a full hour late.  
  
"Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, three times is enemy action." Sushulana grumbled.  
  
I could not argue with her reasoning.


	4. 29

 

 

 

 

29

 

 

The Fortress... that was its only name when we visited it. In other centuries it may have had other names, without any great need for one. No other structure on Cytheria could have rivaled it for absolute solidity. The foundation was a rambling wall of black Basalt dating back thousands of years, to when men of Tyre had gone forth as the first people to travel and colonize the length of the Southern Sea. In later eras, the Tiberians had raised the walls with a layer of blue-grey Granite. Recent generations had seen the Akkadians build half of the enclosure upwards farther than the previous 2 builders combined. A central Keep was flanked by tall towers, all made of a faded red stone, windows and crenelations were framed by alternating bands of yellow and orange stonework.

Overall, I have never seen such an ugly building in my life. Once we entered the dark and ancient lower gates to enter the courtyard, it became positively oppressive.

When we pulled up before the inner gatehouse, which was every bit as formidable as the outer gate, Melisande was the first to leave the carriage, and had herself a bit of fun helping Phedre and Joscelin step down. For different reasons, the both of them trembled to restrain pent-up emotions as Melisande held out her hand to them. I saw Sushulana tense impatiently and lift a leg as if she meant to dismount by doing a back-flip right out of the carriage. Imriel slapped a hand down on that leg and shook his head. We stepped down in a more normal way, and Melisande was less playful with us. Sushulana looked about with a critical eye, and then did a slow turn, smiling. Her militant mind approved of this place and its defenses. I hoped this would be to the good, for our own sakes. As we walked through the heavy inner gates, under the portcullis and past another set of gates, Sushulana stole one last glance at the sky. The next thing she did was give us a shrug, and a sheepish grimace. Nearly a full day had passed since she had begun scanning the sky, and still no sign of Merrin. Once again, her nerves were getting the better of her.

Without discussing it, we fell into a formation that shielded Sushulana from view as much as possible. Ahead went Melisande, flanked by her pair of guards, followed by Imriel and myself with Sushulana between us. Right behind her came Phedre and Joscelin, and lastly our two Marines. Sushulana gave us both a sour look, we were blocking her view of her surroundings. I paid her no mind, we were also shielding the inhabitants of this place from her, and her manic ways.

There was much to see inside this Fortress. The windowless interior rooms were not dingy or dim, as they had been painted white or were faced with bright yellow stonework. These rooms were also spacious and vented to some amount of airflow via wide staircases. Akkadians knew their work well when it came to building with stone in hot climates, these chambers were comfortably cool without being chill. The forbidding feeling that I had felt a moment ago faded, but did not disappear. We had reached the end of our hurried journey, for better or worse. We has made it at last.

 

 

***

 

An attendant in white silks met us by walking backwards and urging us along with elaborate gestures and rapidly whispered words that only Melisande could understand. Thus is was that our pace did not slacken as we crossed a vast hallway flanked by shadowed galleries, climbed a flights of stairs and entered the floor where the Governor of Cytheria awaited us. Not a single person crossed our path the whole way.

This room was also cleverly made, more than large enough for the long table near the far wall with a dozen chairs arrayed around it. That wall showed the border between the old and new; the lower half was granite, and the upper have was red, a polished and vibrant red on the interior side rather than the sun-faded outer facing. At the left end of the room was a circular staircase twisting upwards. We entered through double doors made of heavy slabs of purple-red wood framed with bronze, to confront the denizen of this place. There were no windows, shadows were banished from this room by mirror-smooth silver sconces along the far wall that reflected sunlight from a source I could not see.

Flanked by a Scribe and one guardian, Ptolemy Solon, the Clever Ape, rose to greet us.

It may sound mean of me to refer to him in that way, but this was indeed how he appeared to me in that instant. It was not I who had invented that nickname. People born in an unfortunate way are often driven to great achievements, I stood among several at that moment. Had this man spent his whole life proving that there was more to him than the face of a primate? If so, he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, and been forced to retreat to this forbidding fortress from his own fame.

All three men were seated along the far side of the broad table, and all three stood to listen to the seneschal introduce us with all the decorum and formality that we would have been accorded at any seat of Government. For the first time since Ajaccio, our titles were properly acknowledged, and that in itself did me a world of good. Joscelin was still in his usual attire, but Imriel had changed into the clothes Melisande had provided; an embroidered white tunic, black jacket and black silk trousers.

The men flanking our host bowed and were introduced to us as Voz, and Leonicus Chalcondyles. Voz was the Guardian, and given the tales about Sushulana and her violent ways, his presence was understandable. He wore a vest of light chain, studded leather elsewhere, and a pair of short swords at his hips. Voz had a distinctly Mnekhetan look about him, and his half-helm was of the sort worn in that part of the world. His expression was that of the studied indifference of a true mercenary.

Chalcondyles was no mere scribe, I knew that at first glance. He kept his face bland through much of the coming interview, yet his eyes held a predatory look at times that burned through his scholarly interest in the proceedings. I found myself disliking him intensely, and would have asked that he be removed from the meeting were it not for his deferential attitude towards Solon. One does not begin a working relationship by venting an instinctive dislike of a man's trusted underlings.

As for the Governor himself, his stocky frame was simply attired in a white vest that reached to his knees over green shirt and trousers. I think that Melisande was being clever with her wardrobe. Imriel was in black & white, and the dress that Melisande had laid out for Phe'dre was a feminine and stylish version of what Solon had on, in reverse coloring. Melisande herself wore a white gown, and walked around the table as her guards posted themselves at the long ends of the table. Voz stepped back to allow her to take his chair.

Solon remained standing after the bows and introductions of his own side of the table were done. He held out a hand to Melisande while his eyes remained fixed on us. "It is a most interesting honor to meet you once again, Prince Imriel. Congratulations on your marriage, and many other triumphs as well. Your trials do appear to have been worthwhile, after all." He inclined his head to me. "Dauphine, you have lead your people here in a surprisingly effective, and swift, manner. Simply put, you have justified all that has been done on your behalf before we even met. Please, if you would all be seated?" I understood this was effusive praise by his standards, and direct by any standards. Before I had time to wonder what he meant to gain by it, or even take my seat, he continued; "Alas that my reward for aiding you has been the sort that forced me to take refuge here."

Imriel shook his head to protest. "I did not-"

"It matters not where the rumors started, esteemed Prince, son of my wife. Word _has_ been passed, and now that the threat of retaliation from Carthage no longer hangs over my head, a plague of the curious and the needy has descended in it's place. My ability to Govern this island effectively has been called into question, and I face recall to Akkad proper. So, forgive me for asking, but what sort of compensation will be coming my way on this occasion? I feel the need to ask prior to our beginning here, lest I need to defend myself from your gratitude ahead of time."

I sagged into the chair Imriel had pulled out for me, feeling hollow, and a glance to my left showed Phedre in a similar state. Melisande leaned over to whisper in the ear of the Clever Ape as he took his seat, but she was not able to say a great deal.

"Very well, how about Gold?" Sushulana stepped up and put a hand on my seatback, and another on Phedre's seat next to me, taking the space directly opposite Solon. This was an interesting thing to hear her say, and bold as ever. Her coin purse was light, most likely empty after her visit to the orphanage, and we had seen all her cargo. What sort of promise was she going to make now?

"It would not be a matter of a few coin, nor would it-"

"Not coin. A quarter of a ton of Gold Dust." Every eye in the room was on her, and I heard more than one gasp. For my part, I knew her well enough by then to simply smile up at her, leaning on the arm of my chair as I half-turned to face her.

"I don't suppose you have it with you?" Solon asked, looking her up and down. I later found out that his eyes were getting weak, difficult to focus on things farther than a few paces away. He was now seeing her for the first time, and I found myself admiring his mental balance in that moment. I think Melisande must have warned him.

"It's mixed in with the rocks, gravel and dirt we used to ballast my ship. Freshly mined, there may be some impurities in it, but given the quantity we are talking about, I think you can over look that." Short of _coin_ , she had said. I put my hand in front of my face, to hide my silent laughter from the people across the table.

"Well... yes... a forced retirement would be more bearable given such a boon. I suppose I can be more amenable to helping you now."

"No!" Phaing stared straight at him, crouched like a Bird of prey between the two chairs. "Not for this, I'm buying _their_ debt to you." She jerked a thumb at me, and Imriel. "Their Kingdom is no longer indebted to you, in any way, shape, or form. _Period_." This time it was my gasp that echoed in the stoney room. She winked at me. "Makes for a better late Wedding gift than the last one I sent, yes?"

"Truly." was the limit of my vocabulary at that moment. Solon was equally tongue-tied.

It fell to Melisande to ask; "And what are you offering for our help?"

"Oh, I think I know very well what you will demand of me. I will teach you 3 spells, no more. Ones I think that you can master without ruining yourself and others too terribly much."

Solon responded quickly. "You list a score, and I choose the five."

Sushulana shook her head. "That's too many to pick from, and I can't even guess the mischief you could get into with that many. The list will be a dozen. I choose one, you choose one.... and we leave the last to the dice. Agreed?"

Solon looked back and forth. Chalcondyles shrugged, and Melisande gave him a non-committal nod. He looked back over his shoulder at Voz. "Would you mind getting this woman, this Field _Marshall_ , something to sit on?" Voz procured a stool small enough to be placed between our chairs, and a thick cushion as well for Sushulana to sit on. Solon smiled and nodded to her, letting us all know she had won some respect from him with her bargaining. "Marshall.... a warrior as well?"

"Do I _look_ like one?" Sushulana retorted. "There are spells that can make me _seem_ like one, for a while. As for my military rank, warriors are not always the best at staff work. I know how to run an army, not take my place in a shield wall." She skirted the lie well, and the rest of us never gave anything away, we never had the chance to. The people on the other side of the table were focused on her alone.

"Is that so?" Solon and Voz took turns firing questions at her, and it soon emerged that Sushulana knew more about military strategy and procedures that anyone else at the table. I dare say she gave us a bit of an education, and it emerged that the largest army she had ever commanded had numbered 'just under 100,000', which she did not seem to think overly grand. No battle that had occurred in the lifetimes of anyone at the table had involved so many people, even if both side's forces were counted as a whole.

Sushulana then began her story with a very brief version of her own background, her relation to Merrin and his current activities. She told them of his twisted quest, why she had lured him to this world and again asked that we find some way to cure his madness, re-stating that it would be foolish to confront him directly. She also went into that semi-trance to tell the snippet from Merrin's autobiography. She had not yet said anything about how Merrin had crushed Thal nor even a great deal about Carthage when the people across the table noted how here eyes flashed when she mentioned anything to do with combat.

Chalcondyles asked for, and got from Solon, permission to question Sushulana directly. "Am I to conclude from your testimony and manner that you are enamored of warfare?"

"Yes."

Her answer was unequivocal. It was also such an outrageous thing to say that Solon turned to Melisande, and she nodded that it was the truth... as if Sushulana had given them any room for doubts.

"Just a moment." She held up her hand as Chalcondyles started to follow up on his question. "No, not as a constant state of being, that would defeat the purpose. War must be a controlled thing, you cannot allow it to go on too long or to take on a life of it's own... and if you are going to keep staring at me with those horrible eyes of yours, then listen well to what I have to say."

Chalcondyles was indeed a rather homely man, pot-bellied and trying to cover a weak chin with a weedy beard. His worst features were his eyes, bulging, watery, and somewhat mismatched with one a muddy green and the other simply mud-colored. They must have given him fine peripheral vision, his quill never stopped moving as Sushulana continued.;

"Without war, the world would sink into a swamp of materialism." she spoke that line as if quoting a sage, and then in her own words; "Without wars Phedre would now be a matronly bouncy-girl that never left sight of that hilltop, Royal courts all over the world would never find common cause or get a break from being battlegrounds in and of themselves, and Imriel might have had to kill you." She pointed a finger straight at Melisande. "Or he may never have come into existence. _You_ see war as a sin, _I_ say it is the means by which we _pay_ for our sins. Namely hubris, neglect of our responsibilities, and ignorance of the wider world." It would have been well if she had stopped there, but naturally, she did not. "Ah, and in battle itself, you feel so alive! Its not just being close to death, many of us are killed, some horribly, but for those that are not... its such a tremendous sense of _being_. There is a truth in it that cannot be spoken of in words. This is a physical kind of communion, you have to feel it to understand it."

I sat there feeling sick to my stomach. The nightmarish vision of Sushulana dancing among a field of the fallen flashed in my mind. It was not hard to put acres of mangled dead men and Sushulana smiling with sword in hand together, for I have seen both, and combined they made for a repulsive image.

Chalcondyles took a deep breath, and continued; "Is this attitude normal among your people, where you are from?"

"No, not at all. I suppose its just one of many things that have always set me apart. One way or another, I manage to alienate just about everyone, eventually." Her candor had reached a depth that made me inhale sharply and turn my head, to find she was looking straight at me.

So, she _had_ noticed the change in my attitude towards her. In the middle of this crucial meeting she turned to meet my stricken gaze. Her own eyes were miserable and totally unsurprised. She was expecting rejection, as if it was an inevitable part of life.

I shook my head. "It's not like-"

"Kiss me, then." she said lifelessly.

My blood rose, and I did as well. How dare she .... and in front of people I had just met! I did care, at least peripherally, that we had an audience and that they were non-D'Angeline. Sushulana was trying to catch me in the _pretense_ of friendship, and this was one galling insight too many from a woman that was supposed to be so socially retarded. It was high time to remind this puny _Alfar_ with the big mouth who I really was!

... so in summary, not only was I trying to dodge the truth, but I was planning to use my hereditary position to intimidate someone I had been intimate with. I was doing it for the sake of a personal issue. Moreover, I was acting out of pride.

I do not believe in coincidences anymore. What I believe is that the Gods sought to teach me a lesson in that instant. How could anyone expect less than perfect timing from them?

A hollow sound echoed in the quiet room as I stood and pushed the chair away over the stone floor. A heartbeat passed before I noticed that the sound went on after the chair stopped moving. No, not an echo, the noise changed and grew louder. I had heard something similar when I had been in the hold of a ship moving in calm seas, and I had paused to listen to the noises rushing water made as it played over the hull. This, however, was coming from above us.

The next thing that distracted me from my anger, and for good this time, was the sound of a man screaming from up above. I had never heard a man scream before, not in  pure fright and panic.

"...he's _here_..."


	5. 30

 

30

  
  
  
**_"Phaing! Get out here where I can see you, NOW!"_**  
It was not a voice as I understood voices should be. What smote out ears was more like the carefully modulated echoes of boulders striking the walls of the Fort.  
  
"Solon!" Sushulana clapped her hands in front of him. "Which of these stairs take us straight to the roof?" He gawped at her as if she had lost her mind. "What, you wanna keep _him_ waiting?" she barked, and Solon pointed past the doors we had entered by, and the staircase beyond. Sushulana sprinted that way, and her small legs could propel her very quickly. Imriel was at her heels before I could blink, and just that quickly I found myself following him. Not Sushulana, _Imriel_ , from whom I can never be parted. We paid no heed to the confused guards or the shouts of "No!" from the table we had left behind.  
  
Only the shout from Melisande was meant for Imriel. The rest were meant to keep me out of danger. How very foolish, as if my life would worth anything at all if he were not a part of it.  
  
I did not even need to lift my skirt, it parted along the front seam to allow my legs to run full-out. My feet may have touched 12 steps on the three flights of stairs we ran up to reach the open top of the Fortress, perhaps fewer. Finding Imriel right away, and latching on to his arm, I blinked at the daylight and followed his eyes to the source of all our greatest fears.  
  
_Ah, but to SEE the thing, wild and strong, free to roam the world..._  
  
Those nearly forgotten words of some ancient poet came to my mind the first time I beheld Merrin the Grey with my own eyes. It was well that they did, I needed something to center my thoughts around. There was no icy hand on my heart, as Hrolvath had warned us of. In that moment, what I wanted to avoid thinking of was how my stomach had just imploded, and turned into something the size and consistency of a dried apple.  
  
Merrin was moving away from us at an angle when we caught sight of him, thank the Gods. He was so huge that he seemed to be moving slowly, that vast spread of wings rippling in intricate ways. I distracted myself from the chorus of screams of mortal terror from the streets below by counting the horns that fanned out from the back of his head; three to each side, and the central pair were much longer and thicker than the rest. The horns were a also a metallic grey that caught the sun more brilliantly than the rich charcoal grey that predominated, or the darker grey-green of his wings. Hexipedal, he was, like a Spider, with 4 limbs and a pair of wings. I could have lost my fear in my analysis of him, had his head not darted down into the town and come up with a snack. It was far away, but I could make out a large horse that might have been the very one we had ridden yesterday. Merrin tossed it high in the air and breathed out a column of fire that the screaming animal feel through, and back into his teeth. He ground his meal up quickly and swallowed before resuming his strident demands, circling the far end of the city now.  
  
I noticed that Phedre and Joscelin had arrived, but only because they stepped past us and into my field of view. They stood upright, either to try to shield us or to gain as good a view of the Dragon as possible. If the intent was to shield us, it was not going to work, Merrin never stopped moving. Yet in blocking my view, even temporarily, they freed me to notice other things about me.  
  
"How.... _how_ can something so large fly like that?" I turned and saw that Solon and his people had joined us, in a limited fashion. They stood in the staircase, hips nearly level with the flooring, and came no closer. I wished that the rest of us had thought of that.  
  
Phedre answered him by reflex with a breathless voice. "Dragons don't fly, they beat the air into submission."  
  
Now that I had torn my eyes away from Merrin, I could move them freely, and I saw Sushulana standing there, just ahead and to one side of us. The 'roof' of the Keep was simply a large square platform, surrounded by the usual gap-toothed wall. There had been half a dozen soldiers up here when Merrin had appeared, they remained rooted to the spot they had been standing on when they first caught sight of the Dragon. Our two Marines had joined us, and Voz had shoved Solon's guards ahead of him and up onto the stone flooring, then he had prudently stepped back next to the opening for the stairs. If he had to, Voz could jump down onto the stairs. Likely to be a bad fall, it had to be preferable to the jaws of a Dragon. Two nearby towers stood taller than the parapets, and there were faces peering out of various openings. I estimate that between 20 and 30 people witnessed what was about to happen.  
  
I had hoped that the _Alfar_ would have some advantage here, having dealt with Merrin before, but for the moment this did not seem to be the case. Sushulana stood tall, mouth open and eyes wide. She was studying Merrin, yet at the time it appeared that she was every bit as awed by the Dragon as the rest of us. "Sushulana, please.... _something_?" I tried to call out to her, and it came out as a strangled moan. _Do something_ , hardly a compelling command from royalty, yet she blinked, and when Merrin started to dive at another horse, she stepped forward and sang out;  
  
"Turn around you old Tyrant, and let's bump heads!"  
  
She said it loudly and clearly, yet Merrin was nearly a mile away by then, I thought it impossible that he could hear her. He did, and reacted instantly, reversing direction in a contortion that showed his physical prowess. His snake-like neck whipped his head up over his back to look at us, inverted, and then the rest of his body followed the curve. _THWAP_ , his wings caught the air, reversing his flight path and his whole body was upside down for an instant. Merin rolled over in the air and came at us with terrifying speed. He seemed to be looking at us, at _me_ , until he came in for a landing on the one patch of ground that was on a level with the Fort's foundations. Once he came that close, we could see that his eyes were fixed on Sushulana, and what eyes! Imriel has explained how seeing into someone was similar to looking for fault-lines, fissures in a person's soul. In Merrin's case, anyone at all could see he was insane. His eyes looked like mirrors that had been struck with a fist and crazed in a spider-web pattern. His pupils were dilated and tiny, his spear-like teeth ran with ropey bits of drool the size of a man's arm. He snarled at Sushulana, breath reeking of roasted horse flesh.  
  
It was the smell that made it all too real for me. "Oh dear gods please no, Imriel take me home take me home I want to go home..." Those words were my own, I have no clear memory of speaking them, they were later confirmed by two witnesses and I record them shamelessly. They were the only words spoken aloud by a Human Being during the encounter to come.  
  
Merrin's wings blotted out the sun as he landed before us. He did not shake the earth, settling in gracefully on all fours. Then he reared up, looking down on us, we standing on the battlements of a Fortress with four interior floors. He folded his wings, and his mouth formed words that we could make sense of, somehow. When making conversation, he sounded something like a waterfall, and something like a landslide. Not in volume, unless he desired it, yet that is as close as I can come to something familiar when describing this 'voice'.  
  
"Truthseeker." He addressed Sushulana. It was an interesting thing to hear her being called, but something in his manner suggested a breezy contempt.  
  
"Justicar." Sushulana said back to him, and with exactly the same tone. "May I introduce-"  
  
"Fuck _them._ Ah, I'm guessing you have already." Merrin evinced a bored-with-it-all attitude as he sacrificed the majesty of his presence, and began to speak and behave in a thuggish way. In spite of Sushulana's hesitation to engage him, this must have been an old dance for both of them. She responded in kind. _  
  
_ “Yeah, but in this case, you wouldn’t be standing tall enough to kiss their asses if you were standing on your Daddy’s shoulders… from a standpoint of morality, courage and honor.” I was expecting Sushulana to defend us, but being so combative with that [i]thing towering over her...  
  
Merrin continued along the same path, toying with her sensibilities. “Bah! All of this fine morality and enlightenment you are so enamored of, their religion is just an offshoot of the babble of that Kike carpenter.”  
  
“He was no _Kike_ car-“  
  
“Sure looked like one to me, big round forehead, hooked nose, the whole bit.” My heart tripped when I heard the Dragon speaking that way, for a reason I could not understand yet.  
  
“Oh, so you _were_ there." Sushulana pounced as if she was investigating a crime. "And I’ll just bet you did nothing to help the noblest man this race ever produced, not a damned thing!”  
  
“Your observations of your precious Phedre should have taught you how pointless it is to try to moderate the behavior of someone with a Martyr complex.”  
  
Sushulana took a step forward, spitting with rage. “Say what you will about the Yeshua and his ilk, but if you think you can talk that kind of shit about the living or play your stupid mind-games with them, I’ll –“  
  
Yeshua.... they had been talking about _Yeshua_! The absurd manner in which they were doing so meant little compared to the fact that Merrin was speaking of it as a direct observer. We had been told that Merrin was thousands of years old, but to hear him speak that way of events over a millennium past was as overwhelming as the difference between Sushulana's illusions and the reality of the Dragon.  
  
“You _will_ _WHAT_? Despite all the odds that said otherwise, here we are, yet again. So don’t you DARE presume to tell me what judgments I can and cannot make!”  
  
Any living thing would have taken a step back when confronted by an angry Dragon, and Sushulana was no exception... for the time being. "Alright, very well. So how long have you been playing the tourist here?”  
  
“Hmm? Oh, that once was all, I admit that I was nonplussed by your assessment of this place. Based on my own observations, I really didn’t see anything that special about it.”  
  
“ _Didn’t_?”  
  
Merrin avoided the question. “You speak of games, and I am the expert in the playing of them. But I confess a curiosity, what is this game _you_ are playing here? Does it not bother you, just how tired these people are of great doings, how badly they need to enjoy the rewards of their labors?”  
  
She slumped, “Don’t I know it. Oh… if you thought I hated myself before… but Merrin, old comrade, _you_ are different here too, aren’t you?” Sushulana stood taller again and leaned into her inquiry, “Why Carthage? You are not supposed to do things like that. You may be loosing your way, you took a very direct hand there. Why? And why did you wait until I was within sight of the place?”  
  
“Never question the ways of a Dragon.” He avoided a question for a second time, and spoke as if quoting something old.  
  
" _You_ came to talk to _me_ , unless more games are all there is to you, Merrin. Talk to me!" Something brittle in him was ready to give way, and she could see it.  
  
Merrin sighed... that is how I interpreted the slow exhalation. He looked her scanty attire up and down, Sushulana had lost her cloak during her dash up the stairs. This gave him an excuse to be evasive. "Dressed to impress the natives, I see. As if I had anything else to expect from a Neanderthal-lover like you."  
  
Sushulana did not just take the bait, she bit right into the hand dangling it in front of her. "Hey, I heard a good one the other day- When crazy people go for a walk in the woods, do they use a psyco-path?"  
  
"Tread carefully, nigglette, my patience is wearing thin-"  
  
" _Your_ patience? To hell with this, I'm bored already." Sushulana insolently turned on one heel and started to walk away. "Why don't _you_ talk with the people who's world you are trampling."  
  
Merrin's eyes flashed angrily, and he seemed to be done with this conversation as well. However, he had to have the last word. "Just because you set such store in these talking monkeys, don't think for a moment that I am feeling any need to take up their valuable time with our little problems."  
  
Phaing had skidded to a halt and gone red in the face as he spoke, trembling with outrage, and silently repeating the words ' _talking monkeys_ ' as her fury built. She whirled around and did not conceal her mystical words this time; " _Rackba knn Lictalon_!"  
  
A lighting bolt, identical to the one that had struck the mercenaries on Kyrnos, leaped from her right hand and impacted on Merrin's chest. In daylight it was not dazzling or blinding, in spite of passing so close to me that my hair stood on end. The Lightning strike did some real damage, tearing a couple of scales loose and leaving a smoking pit in the Dragon as large as a bucket. His flesh was blackened and spotted with orange embers. Merrin winced, more in surprise than in pain. A charging Bull would have dropped dead in its tracks, yet for Merrin is was something he could shake off, perhaps. Sushulana did not pause any more than she had in Melisande's dinning room. She repeated the spell as quickly as the speaking of three words would allow, sending two more bolts at Merrin.  
  
The Dragon was quicker; he caught the 2nd bolt in his right claw, the 3rd in his left, making the energy dissipate harmlessly, just as she warned us he could. He lunged towards her as Sushulana seemed to pause in her spell casting. I was looking at her and I saw the reason why; Her hand was scrabbling at her hip, for something that wasn't there. I recalled her belt, and the pouches there, holding materials for some of her more potent spells. In this case, she needed something flammable. Ever quick-thinking, she yanked her brief top right off and pulled it back as child would using a bit of elastic to launch a rock.  
  
"Izzmatzin". When she released it, the end nearest her face caught fire and the whole thing went rocketing at Merrin's approaching head with a rumble similar to that of a runaway wagon.  
  
The Dragon checked his forward motion just short of the wall and ducked his head under the expanding ball of fire as it came at him. His long neck bent in a rolling motion to avoid it, but he could not duck his shoulders far enough. The detonation was thunderous, right between his wing-roots, the spell expending its energy as a burning gain-silo would. Another wince, a grimace, and a growl was all that he showed in reaction to the blast.

  
His head was just yards from the wall, and before I could stop her, Sushulana ran straight at him, and leaped up onto the parapet. The Dragon's head was so close, I think she could have hit his nose if she had a cane in her hand. Beside herself with rage, she was the one that roared now;  
  
" _You degenerate asshole, you low-life motherfucker._ Get out get out get the HELL out of here! _I can't stand the sight of you anymore_ , you evil cunt-faced shithead!!! . I'll stay here and clean up the fucking mess you have made _, JUST LIKE I ALWAYS HAVE TO DO_! Go, get away from me you _selfish_ BASTARD!"  
  
Merrin blinked, and for just an instant, i saw his cracked-mirror gaze dissipate. Then he roared back at her.  
  
I had never experienced sound as a physical force before.  
  
" **ON _YOUR_ HEAD BE IT, THEN**." 30 tons of Dragon whirled about with blinding speed, and his tall struck the foundation of the wall. He did no real damage to the 20-foot thick masonry, we were later glad to see, but the building shook as it would in a minor earthquake. I looked to Sushulana. She was standing in the gap between crenelations, hands firmly braced on the stonework to her left and her right. Despite her perch, she was the least likely among us to lose her footing.  
  
Melisande had gone to one knee, as would Phedre had Joscelin not been there to catch her. Imriel was at my side with one arm around me, but he was not content to stay upright. He, and I as well, had to move forward to the parapet. Merrin had taken to wing.  
  
The Dragon arced away in a curving path toward the harbor, smoke trailing from his chest and back. Now, it was Sushulana that was rooted to the spot, while the rest of us surged about to see what would happen next.  
  
"no... _no_... NO!" She knew what would happen as Merrin's path took him towards L'Indiscreet. A bolt from her Balistea whistled up at the Dragon, but he had already begun an S-shaped turn that proved impossible to track.

  
" ** _GET OFF THAT TUB, NOW!_** " He bellowed as he passed over it, and for emphasis one casual swipe of his tail stripped all 3 masts from the ship. The crew obeyed with alacrity, leaping to the dock, or into the water if the tangle of rope and other debris was in their way. Half a minute later, Merrin had completed his turn and demonstrated his mastery of acrobatics as he descended on L'Indicreet. He checked his shallow dive with widespread wings that went _WHOMP_ , filled with air as he hovered upright on the seaward side of his target. The tail that he normally used to stabilize his flight came up between his legs and then arched downward as a 90-foot long Bullwhip might. Amidships, it cut through the hull to the waterline. Merrin snorted a fireball of his own into the hold, and the keel snapped in two under the impact. The bow and stern of the little ship drifted apart a short way, and the fires were doused as the wreckage sank in the shallow harbor.  
  
The Dragon landed in the harbor, and stood hip-deep in the water as a tame Bear might. Merrin reached into the wreckage, and tore something free. He held his prize aloft for all on the Fortress to see. There was a glint of Brass there, from Sushulana's Balistae. Merrin gave us a toothy sneer, and tossed it into the ocean. It landed so far away I could not see the splash. Three ships arriving at the harbor nearly collided with each other or the breakwater, panicked by the sight of the great beast before them.  
  
We were then treated to the laughter of a demented Dragon, and what happened next was stupefying. Merrin vanished before our eyes, moving a if he had opened a curtain and stepped behind it.


	6. 31

 

 

 

 

31

 

 

Sushulana was still up there, now crouched sideways on the wall and averting her eyes from the harbor. Her rump on one stone upright, hands on the other crenelation with arms braced straight, and her head was down between her arms, making it hard to see her face. As I approached her, she spoke, but I don't think it was to me or anyone else in particular. "Don't you just _hate_ that son of a bitch?"

"Yes!" The destruction of that sweet, peculiar little ship struck me as if I had lost an under-appreciated friend. We did not know if any lives had been lost there as yet.

Sushulana looked at me as if she was surprised to see me there, and then up past me, past Imriel at all the people gathered there. We must have looked devastated to her; "Oh _gods_ , you poor people!"

She stood up in the gap and clapped her hands over her head. "Yo!" she called out, as the leader of a troop of Cavalry would. "Hello everyone. Eyes on me now! Yes, hi there, its all going to be alright. He's gone off to nurse his wounded pride, the old monster isn't looking back at us, so relax." She thought of something that made her smile for us. "Back home we have a saying; the higher a Dragon flies, the more you see of his ass."

There she was, smiling, trying to revive our scattered wits, breasts bare to all and not caring in the least as she stood there with her back to a 50-foot drop. "That's better, pull it together and let's get busy. While that old beast is off sulking you need to get ready in case he comes back. We have about half a day, and even though its likely he will turn up somewhere else next, we can't count on that. So get your siege-engines out and make 'em ready, while I work on some way to lead Merrin into a nice trap. Sound like a good plan to you folks?"

May the Gods love them, some of the men began cheering, I think it was our Marines that started it. Others joined in, and I had to shake my head and smile as Imriel held out his hands to help Sushulana step down. I was sure that some of them were cheering the fact that she had nothing left to wear but her long skirt and sandals, yet even so I doffed my gauzy cloak for her as she alighted on the flooring. Imriel shed his jacket and pulled his shirt off over his head, holding it out to her as well.

"From poverty to an embarrassment of riches, the story of my life." She accepted the shirt first, grinning, but her face had darkened by the time she had pulled it on. "... _talking monkey_ s....?" she muttered, and then turned back to the wall and snarled at the place where Merrin had disappeared. "So what the hell am _I_ , a talking Raccoon?"

I had no idea what she meant by that. I stepped up and draped the cloak over her shoulders, and pulled her hair free of the collar of Imriel's white shirt. "Easy now." I said softly. "If all you wanted was forgiveness, you have earned it most impressively." She turned to face me with a question in her eyes, thinking _is that all?_ very clearly. My answer was to pull her tight to me and kiss her.

It was good to know that I could surprise her, better yet to feel her melt into that tiny physical expression of affection. Best of all was what she whispered to me after our lips parted and we stood for a brief moment, foreheads touching. "I felt so hollow until you did that, and now... Great Lady, who _are_ you?"

It really _is_ a difficult question, when you think on it.

Imriel's bare chest had also drawn some attention. That was odd, considering what Sushulana had just bared, yet one must remember the scars. The soldiers present were drawn to him, I think they needed to be reassured by this clear evidence that he was as great a warrior as his reputation told of. Seeing, as they say, is believing, and Imriel took his time about putting his jacket back on. Helpfully, he also diverted attention from my public display of affection. "Gentlemen, we should make haste for the Docks. People need our assistance, and the Governor will need to summon his dredgers."

Chalcondyles was the first to understand what Imriel meant by that last comment. "Oh, Apep eat me! _The Gold_!"

 

 

***

If bared torsos and encouraging speeches could distract those men from the horror of Merrin, the mention of Gold had a more salutary effect. We all rushed to the docks, for different reasons, Solon remaining behind to organize the salvage effort. I stayed as close as I could to Sushulana, and whispered; "Was there really a quarter ton of Gold in there?"

"Yeah, and that leads back to another problem, one that can wait until we get past this crisis."

"Oh no.... you didn't steal it?" I didn't think it was possible to steal enough gold to fill 30 chests that would require a strong man to carry each one, two men each for any distance.

"No, they begged me to get rid of it for them. Its ... complicated." Voz caught up with us after a quick meeting with Solon, and held up a hand for Sushulana's attention while walking backwards ahead of us. I blinked when I realized he was asking for Sushulana's attention. "Yes?"

"Lady, you mentioned siege weapons. What sort of ammunition would you suggest we use against that Dragon?"

"Alright.... yes, let me think." Five steps later, she had an answer for him. "Have glassblowers make spheres of glass about the size of my fist, fill them with acid. Powerful stuff," she named a few types or described their properties, "then you surround them with tar, pitch, whatever, until you have something the size of two of your fists. Wrap it in oilcloth or waxed paper, to keep them from sticking together. That also makes it easier to lite 'em up. If they hit something hard enough to shatter the glass, you get a nice double-effect. If not, they can stick, and the acid eventually boils and explodes, that's even better."

Voz nodded, "And how are they delivered, Mangonel?"

"Better to fling half a dozen at a time from a catapult, harder for the target to dodge them that way, right?"

Voz stopped walking, and for the first time in his life, he sketched a military salute to a woman. She returned it and watched him dash off to return to the Fortress. "What do you think of that one?"

"Hard to read." I answered. "I think you could have bought that one and all his men with what you just gave Solon. Sushulana... why did you _do_ that with the gold?" Buying a debt, she had called it. Did that mean she wanted us in herdebt?

"Oh, I did that because I _could_ , because I wanted to impress Solon with how important this is, and because the idea of Imriel or you owing anything to that man makes my skin crawl." She glanced at me as we reached the Docks. "I dunno, but something about him reminds me of Thal."

There was little left of L'Indiscreet. The bow had parly collapsed and was awash, the stern had fallen towards the dock and fetched up against it precariously. The poop-deck was still above water. "The sea seems to be lower than when we arrived."

"The tide... its coming back in!" She dashed past her men and leapt onto the deck.

"No!" Feri shouted at her as her sudden passage made him spin around just to keep her in sight. "It's not stable!"

"Then you better not follow me! Toss me a pry-bar and stand by to catch. _NO_ -body steps on this deck, right?"

"Right." Feri gave Sushulana a metal bar two feet long, his last act as her leading sailor. While she attacked the boards just ahead of the tiller, Feri turned to us and explained how he and Jharroque had done their best, but they simply could not hit Merrin with the one chance fate had given them. At a glance we could tell that nobody had been killed, all but one had been quick enough to avoid any injury. Evike' had broken several fingers leaping to the dock, and fretted about what this might do to her ability to draw maps. Imriel assured her that fine Chirugeons were to be found here, while I kept a close eye on the stern section of the wreck.

Sushulana had opened up the roof of her closet and was pulling various things out by then. That lovely red and white dress was intact, but little else. She let out a cry of anguish as she hauled out her Sable cloak, soaked and shriveled, and dumped it on the deck. The remnants of the ship began to groan, and she pulled free of the hole she had made, sprinting to the dock with a double armload of goods. Feri helped her up while Phedre commented softly, her hand over her lips. "I think she would try swimming into the wreck if anyone was missing."

"Aren't you glad she's on our side?" I did not cover my mouth with anything but a smile. A lop-sided one, perhaps, but still genuine for all that.

Sushulana dumped her things and summoned her crew. She had a string of large, fine pearls which she broke apart and divided up among the 9 of them. "I'm sorry about how this worked out, I wanted you people to have this ship. Here, take these, and stick around to salvage what you can of the goods, but the gold-dirt is promised to our hosts."

Only Feri had known about the gold, and he merely shrugged. "The price of fighting that damned beast, aye? I wish you well ma'am, you always done well by us, but I fear we part ways here. Were it not for that warning, we'd all be dead. Why did that thing.... give us a chance to live? It makes no sense, not after we fired at him."

"Heh, did you miss the part where I told you he's crazy?"

I exchanged glances with Phedre while Sushulana hugged each of her crew and had a few more words with them. Phedre did not look convinced about something, but I had no chance to ask her about that. Those three ships were now trying to crowd into the harbor, the sun was approaching its final hour above the horizon just as the salvage team had arrived. Sushulana was the last to step aside, she was making certain that Solon's man knew that her crew had rights to all but the Gold dust. These men soon became impatient, a third of them stripped and dove into the water. A gesture of contempt for her, it may have been, yet these were the men tasked with working underwater, and were determined to start before darkness fell.

Our Marines had been able to prepare themselves somewhat before Merrin attacked. All had their light armor, and between the three of them they still possessed 2 daggers, 2 swords, one axe and one bow. Jharroque insisted that they were all rested and ready for further duties, something I found hard to credit. All about us, Paphos Harbor was filled with people still moaning in fear, shut indoors or wandering aimlessly about the streets and casting fearful glances at the sky. The Marines appeared in good condition, until you looked too closely in their eyes... as did everyone else around me. Imriel and I agreed to keep them with us rather than send them all the way back up to Melisande's villa. As it would have been rude to re-enter Solon's presence with more than double the number of Guards we had arrived with, they would be posted by the carriage in the courtyard.

Solon looked as if he might have aged years during the hour and a half we had been gone. He was also abrupt and querulous once we resumed our meeting at the great table. This time, there were no guards present but Voz, our pair of Marines standing outside the closed door. He started in immediately with Sushulana; "What will Merrin do next?"

"Hmm, based on his past actions and what is known of his methods?" He nodded and she pretended to consider things carefully for three heartbeats; "I have no idea."

Solon slammed his palm on the table. "Not _good_ enough! Not good enough at all, damn it! That was no Emperor, that whole performance up there was asinine! I will agree that he's mad, but-"

"Which means all bets are off the table, agreed?" She spoke softly and closed her eyes until they were just slits. "Based on what he just did, and provoked me to do, we could infer that his next move will be subtle, hidden and that he will follow through on that move without allowing himself to be distracted by anything we throw at him.... isn't that the sensible analysis?" She did not give him a chance to answer. "Pray tell, what exactly appears sensible about him, in your eyes, elder Ptolemy?. Ah, yes, there you have it. He could be in Chin looting drugs or in Mnekhet defacing antiquities. There are only 2 things we know for certain; I infuriated him and made him look childish today, and if he wanted to immobilize me here, in this place, then he has done so." She leaned back and refused to speculate on what that meant.

"He will be coming back for you, yes. How, when?" She merely shrugged at Solon and sipped at the cool water than had been brought for us.

“What about the acid?" I asked, looking from Solon to Voz. It sounded diabolical to me, but any effective weapon against Merrin could only be a good thing.

"I have a quart of one sort of acid that this Alfar mentioned, and half as much of another that comes close enough."

Sushulana slumped in her seat. "Not nearly enough, just forget it." She yawned and let her teeth click together.

"Does that mean he's trying to keep you away from something important elsewhere?" Phedre asked.

Sushulana shrugged helplessly. "Mayhap. How about it, Solon, anything important going on in Akkadia or elsewhere this month?"

"Nothing that I am aware of. Are you feeling well?" He asked that of Sushulana as her eyes started to close on their own. She looked tired, and for good reason.

"I am afraid the Lady has not slept well for several nights now, and today must have been taxing in the extreme." Imriel explained. "However, I'm sure that you will find that her endurance is-"

"I can't keep my eyes open." Sushulana shook her head and sat up. "I'm sorry.... well, I guess you would like a little time to talk about me when I ain't here." She yawned, louder and longer than before. "Can I have a room with a bolt that locks from the inside? Don't need a big one, just peace and quiet." She stood and kissed Phedre and myself on the cheek, hugged Imriel from behind and followed Voz out of the room after nodding to Joscelin, respecting his personal boundaries.

I don't think it was a release from tension that drained her so, not this time. We had reached our goal at last and the matter was, at least in part, out of her hands. Yet I feared I saw a note of despair about her as she left. Even her characteristic hip-sway was missing.

I hadn't yet considered how three lightning bolts and that ball of fire would have sucked the life out of her.


	7. Chapter 7

 

32

  
  
  
"Everything she said was true." Melisande said with a hint of wonderment. "Truthseeker..."  
  
"Yes. As we may have mentioned, she is a terrible liar." Phedre looked straight back at Melisande as she spoke, and reveled in her ability to do so without trembling, or so it seemed to me.  
  
"That can be faked." Solon said, looking a little tired himself. "You have known her one week, that's not nearly enough time to know her in the way you claim, not with any certainty."  
  
I was past caring if he was baiting us or not, it was impossible to let that go unchallenged. "It all depends on the sort of time spent. We picked her brain every day, she was most forthcoming. And do not forget, we had spent the previous month tracking her down and deciphering her actions, her schemes."  
  
"I hear you, Dauphine." Solon paused for a moment, and when none of us added anything, he drained a cup of water and gathered himself to make a statement. The Silent Chalcondyles used the moment to shapren his quill and open a fresh bottle of ink. "Very well then, we must consider what to do about the freakishly powerful and dangerous Monstrosity your friend has brought down about our heads and-"  
  
**"ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!"**  
  
Merrin's voice, ear-splitting in it's intensity... yet my ears did not hurt, nor did Chalcondyles's ink stir in it's little pot. The Dragon was shouting into our minds!  
  
Imriel did try to describe the cold of Vralia to me on one occasion. I am sure he did his best, but I had never felt it until now. My skin went numb, freezing me in place in such a way that I could not move, not even to reach out to Imriel as I so badly wished to do. I could see everyone around me, and the queer thing was, I was not aware of moving my eyes to do so. We were all frozen in place, shivering with fear... and then without warning, we were not.  
  
"Be at ease now, I will trouble you people no more, it ends tonight."

  
As if waking from a dream, we found ourselves on a hillside with just a few trees scattered about. Nighttime, the sun had just set, and yet we would see clearly, and move and cling to each other, and so we did as 3 couples. All but poor Chalcondyles, who stood with his back to Solon and Melisande, protectively, I thought at the time. It was thus that he saw what was speaking to us first.  
  
"It.... _he's_ right.... there!" He pointed with a trembling hand, and that hand traveled upwards, up to a steep angle. I had mistaken the forelegs for tree trunks, and the rest of him loomed above us in his perfect grey camouflage against the night sky. His head was held high, Merrin was not looking at us, and I think that saved us from a worse fright. The Dragon was 50 yards away, yet his size made him seem closer, as a cliff hanging over our heads might. His voice became something more normal, something a trained and gifted orator might be capable of, perhaps, no longer something monstrous.  
  
"Do not panic, you are not really here. Your bodies are still safe and sound back at that Fort. You minds as well, you are merely viewing this from afar. Pinch yourselves if you need to, you won't feel anything. I certainly could not do any harm to you in this manner, either. Think if this as a waking dream."  
  
"Truly?" Melisande spoke, the first of us to recover her wits.  
  
"Yes, truly."  
  
Melisande back-handed Chalcondyles right across the face. It was a solid blow that rocked his head back.  
  
"Arh! What are...." The scribe raised his hand to his mouth, and found no blood there. He nodded at Solon. "I didn't feel a thing," He shot a glance at Melisande, "aside from a momentary lose of control."  
  
We all touched ourselves and found it to be true. Our senses were intact in other ways, but we could not feel pain, and our sense of touch was limited to a feeling of pressure, nothing of texture or pain. This was reassuring, after a fashion... true detatchment in the face of something so deadly.

  
"Ptolomy, you know this place?" Merrin rumbled.  
  
"Yes." Solon nodded down the coast for our benefit. Paphos looked to be fairly close, no farther from the Fortress than Melisande's villa had been.  
  
"Good. Here is where you will come to take me into custody." Merrin lowered his head, and his shoulders slumped at the same time, and he looked at us at last. I felt no fear, his crazed gaze was gone completely. His great eyes were clear, and showed infinite sorrow and.... incredibly, shame. He could have mesmerized us in that instant if he wanted to, we could not look away. The phrase 'an air of shattered nobility' is bandied about in our poetry, yet nobody who did not see Merrin that night can grasp the full meaning of it.  
  
His majesty was gone, but so was every trace of his insanity.  
  
Phedre stepped towards him, her mouth working silently and frowning so tightly at the same time that her teeth were showing. "You.... _never_?!"  
  
"No, I never was, I have been faking my insanity all along. There was no miracle here for me. I had fabricated it to prevent the real thing from befalling-"  
  
" _Sushulana_!" Phedre fell to her knees with a loud groan, fists pressed to her temples as the last piece in the puzzle fell into place, with help from the being that had created the puzzle in the first place. " _She_ is the one that is loosing her mind!"  
  
The great head dipped lower, close enough to the ground that his breath ruffled the grass. "I never cease to marvel at the way people always miss the signs. The volatile mood-swings, the irrational behavior, the kind of courage that only some soul that has no regard for itself can possibly have? _Bah_ , I suppose you people put it down to her 'way' or some such nonsense. Your instincts should have... _you_!" His snout pointed straight at Joscelin as he knelt by Phedre's side, she had driven her fist into the soft ground and shut her eyes tight with her head down... blaming herself for not solving the puzzle sooner. Merrin was focused on her perfect companion. "Your instinct told you the truth, before you even caught her. Why didn't you _say_ something?"  
  
"I didn't want to believe it." Joscelin answered forthrightly and looking straight back into Merrin's eyes. "But the question that matters, Emperor of Lista, is what you have been doing, for how long, and why have you been doing it to her?"  
  
Merrin was unphased by this show of Casseline courage. “Bring your army, bring your chains. If I must surrender for you to hear my words, so be it. But I will speak them, you must hear me… this MUST end, I can’t go on like this”  
  
It came back to me then, and to the rest of us. _take me into custody_ he had said. The implications of that completely distracted me from the questions Joscelin had asked. Leaning into Imriel's arms, I was a little startled to hear Solon speak in a clear and sharp voice; "We would appreciate it if you would answer the Casseline's question. _What_ can't go on like this?"  
  
Solon knew when he had his adversary pinned to a bad position, no matter if it was something as alien as a Dragon. It was helpful that this one was so contrite.  
  
Merrin was looking so miserable that I nearly felt bad about the way Solon pounced, yet I would not have let him go either. "I ask you one thing only, and you must comply. Leave Sushulana out of this; if you tell her about this before you return, I won’t be here. If she discovers the truth, we may lose her.” He laid particular emphasis on _lose_. "I have been frightening people and making Phaing run from world to world, place to place, facing all sorts of dangers and intricate plots to stop me … to stop an insane monster from doing something dreadful… to thwart me."  
  
Phedre nodded. "Yes, we understand that. Does it have something to do with her need to be doing something important? Or is it to distract her from her childhood traumas?"  
  
"Her....? Oh, yes, that."  
  
"That!" I spat the word out at him, thinking the Dragon was being dismissive. "How dare you pretend to make small of her life!"  
  
Merrin smiled at me, I think. "Ah, I'm so glad she found you people, it will help a great deal. No Highness, I was not making light of that aspect of her. It slipped my mind that she would retreat into such things. She retreats to a trauma that she put behind her centuries ago, in order to avoid dealing with something that is so much worse."  
  
_Worse_? Oh no, I did not want to hear this, I didn't think i could bear it, and Merrin could see it. With an apology, he continued.  
  
"I am sorry, she is right, we _are_ being a burden to you. Yet what I was doing before was worse, punishing your world for no reason at all was never part of my plans. And I…. I just can’t _do_ any of this anymore, I feel what this is doing to you, your minds shouting your fear and hate up at me… here in your world it all feels so unjust. In any case, I have nothing left to give. I have to beg you to help her, just her. She is all that is left.”  
  
"Of _what_ ?" Joscelin demanded.  
  
“I’m not so sure he hasn’t lost his wits… still.” Imriel mummered in my ear.  
  
Merrin answered in a very complete way. “She has told you that we fought to save our world, yes? Alright, do this for me, take a look around at this place you love so well, looks around at the green, the blue the life, the movement. Now, close your eyes and see nothing but ash, broken stones, and black sky. Imagine that there are only 2 things left alive; YOU… and me."  
  
I don't know if it was his mental powers, or my imagination, but I _could_ see it. A shattered landscape of hills and valleys similar to what had been there an eye-blink before, and nothing else. gray was the only color, a sky of poison clouds that no sun could penetrate, ash drifting in the wind, and a stark landscape more devoid of life than the most barren desert.  
  
"We fought to save our world. We lost.”  
  
Merrin was right, this was worse. "She… she lost so much more than I. Her husbands, 8 of the 9 children she birthed were still alive until that day, as well as 5 more that she had adopted. I don’t know how many grandchildren and so on, I never had the nerve to ask about that. It is not really possible that all of them died screaming her name, wondering where she was, but Sushulana certainly seems to believe it."  
  
Had Imriel not been there, I would have fallen to my knees, as Phedre had earlier. My understanding was crystal clear. An orphan, runaway slave with nothing but her wits to start with, she had found a way to love when such a thing should have been beyond her grasp. Phaing became Sushulana again and created a dynasty of her own. Husbands, plural, that notion seemed to fit her very well, so many children, with more adopted on top of that.... and it had all been swept away, in some cataclysm that also claimed everyone else she had known.  
  
_Everyone_... I would have dropped dead of anguish on the spot. How could anyone endure such a thing?  
  
Merrin supplied the answer.  
"A Dragon is self-contained, a world until myself, and I had no true followers left. She is the one that needed… so very much. So much that I could not give her, what Dragon could? So, I gave her a useful fiction; a wrong to be righted, something important and good that needed to be done. And endless stream of people that needed to be protected, from me. I can be a good monster, as you have seen. A very good one, one that makes people _think_ , about a great many things. When their thoughts are strong enough, I can feel it… but it seems the hate I inspire is strongest of all. Its is just as well she succeeds so quickly, it is always a relief to leave a world behind, always so good to find someplace new, someplace I am a stranger. She is so good, so very good at finding my trail through the overworld, and at fighting me, all the schemes and twists and turns, volumes could be written of them. But one day she comes to me, right _to_ me and says; 'This time, you can follow ME. Come, see what I have found. These wonderful people, they got it right this time! It’s the best of all possible worlds, this is where you can be healed, forget your madness and be whole again'…. My madness. _MY_ maddness!?!”  
  
Eyes ablaze with helpless agony, tears maybe, he still noted our own shock without even looking at us. “Forgive me, one revelation too many, perhaps. I will leave you now, when you are ready to can find me here."  
  
I looked around. To say that we were all relieved to find that we no longer had a monstrous, insane, god-killing Dragon bent on destruction on our hands... would be an _over_ statement, for my part. Solon, Melisande and Chalcondyles appeared hale and whole, so near to exultation that I wanted to kick them. Phedre was not in shock, but her eyes were glassy as her mind whirled, sorting all this lore away and, hopefully, making sense of it all with the help of that Name. Joscelin was shaken, but willed himself to be solid and supportive of Phedre, while casting a worried glance at the two of us. Imriel had his head down, nose touching my hair, and I could hear his teeth grinding. We four understood that some painless death might be the only mercy that could have any meaning for Merrin and Sushulana both.  
  
_No_!  
  
"Wait!" I shouted up at Merrin when I felt his hold on us start to fade. "What is it you think we can give her? What is it that she wants, most of all, I swear we will try... is there anything she still dreams of?" It was not much of a shout, there was a lump in my throat that was threatening to strangle me, or so it felt.  
  
"You know what her great dream was? She wanted to be a schoolteacher, of all things." Merrin slumped forward, his muzzle plowing deep into the ground, and he great body shook as he shut his eyes tight to the pressure behind them. "Imagine…. all her gifts, and all she ever really wanted was to be a _schoolteacher_!”  
  
That was just the problem, I _could_ imagine it, clearly. Little Sushulana, barefoot and swirling about in a peasant skirt and trim blouse with a smile on her face, surrounded by young students. Problematic children or bullies would be no challenge for her, and she would be beloved for her tireless efforts to guide them towards the truth...  
  
I had never wept in front of so many people. Many was the night I cried myself to sleep when Imriel was away, on Amarante's arms, or even Maislin's, or most often by myself. I had always managed to keep it silent, private, and controlled. This time, I cried into Imriel's chest as something snapped inside me. My throat was soon so raw that it felt as if I had screamed, perhaps I had, and I could not have cared less how it looked or sounded. Imriel held me tight, and I could feel tears of his own on my ear.  
  
And by that, I knew we were back at the Fortress.


	8. 33

 

 

33

  
  
  
When we came back to ourselves, everyone was sitting right where they had been before our summons, with the exception of Princess Sidonie of Terre'D'Ange. I sat in Imriel's lap, clinging to him and weeping on his shoulder just as I had on that nameless, forlorn hilltop.  
  
I did not _want_ to pull myself together right away, and Imriel would have held me there for the whole night without stirring. The presence of my dear Imriel's mother, and the task before us, out-weighed my desire to let Imriel carry me away to a soft bed somewhere. I also had a lifetime of training, and used it to shake off my moment of weakness. It does sound harsh in my own ears to call it weakness... empathy, surely, but would the others see it that way?  
  
Everyone else was a bit shaken, I was not surprised to see. Solon was so deep in though that his face was utterly still, and at his side Chalcondyles scribbled furiously while a quivering hand. Melisande was looking at each of us in turn, carefully measuring our fitness to continue. I followed her gaze to Phedre, who sat very still with her hands just below her chin in tight fists, eyes nearly closed. Joscelin was getting to his feet, restless and ready to move. Blotting my face with Imriel's sleeve, I removed myself from Imriel's lap so that he could also get up if he wanted to. Imriel had managed to keep greater control of himself that I had on this occasion. He was even the first to speak, albeit roughly; "Is.... hmph... is there a way to insure Sushulana does not awake at an inopportune moment?"  
  
Solon nodded. "There is a type of incense that encourages sleep, not a deep one nor can it be relied on for very many hours."  
  
Phedre started. "But to get it in her room... oh, yes. Akkadian construction, the rooms all have internal ventilation?"  
  
"Just so."  
  
Phedre nodded, and fell back into something like a trace. Eyes wide and lips forming a bemused smile, she repeated the words; "The best of all possible words..."  
  
Hearing that upset me so much that I raked my fingernails over the table, hard enough to make even my own ears cringe. "Truly?" My teeth barely unclenched as I spoke. "By the grace of Elua and his companions, yes, that is how we started. However, it is up to us to earn that grace, and to perpetuate it. The two of them didn't come here to just fold up and die! We have to .... _do_ something..."  
  
"You think we _can_ save them?" Phedre asked me.  
  
"You _don't_?" I shot back, my throat tightening again.  
  
Solon shook his head and stood up, both hands planted heavily on the table. "Ladies, if you please? The place Merrin says he is awaiting us in an hour away by horse. We must not keep him waiting. Agreed?" He glanced over Chalcondyles's shoulder and "Stay here and prepare."  
  
"Prepare what? How are we going to put a Dragon under lock and key?" the scribe asked incredulously.  
  
Joscelin shook his head. "No, he can change his shape and size, remember? I don't think he will want to be paraded about in his natural form."

  
"Oh, yes, of course." Chalcondyles was very relieved to hear that. He did not stir as Solon came around the table walking quickly, Melisande in his wake. "If he is expecting an Army, Merrin is in for a disappointment. Two of yours and two of mine will suffice to ward off any thieves, no need to lead all our men to a possible ambush. The women stay here-"  
  
"That's not going to happen." I had no idea what I looked like at that moment and didn't care about red eyes or a wet face, not then and not there. I stepped in his way and looked past him at Melisande. "Did you see any lie is what Merrin just told us?" I turned to Phedre. "Did you?" Neither of them could deny that he had appeared to be truthful. Before they could mention that Merrin had done an excellent job of making them think he had lost his sanity up until just few hours ago, I turned to Imriel. "And our men have no intention of leaving us alone in a strange castle, do you?"  
  
"Not at all." Joscelin immediately took the hard line position. "We'll see you when you return, Governor."  
  
Imriel took a different approach. "Don't you think that Merrin might take it amiss if all of the people he was talking to a moment ago were not there?"  
Solon glowered and stepped around me without conceding the point until he was nearly out of the room. "Very well then, let us assemble in the courtyard."  
  
Moments later, that is where we all met. Without the _Alfar_ we had room for Solon in Melisande's comfortable carriage, Phedre between Imriel and myself as Joscelin was in the seat facing the door. The top had been folded back, a tiny gesture, yet appreciated. If a flying dragon was to pounce on us, at least it would not come unobserved.  
  
The journey was swift and easy, the only hill to be climbed would be the one where Merrin awaited us. We sat, deep in thought, and silently glancing at one another until I could stand it no more. I began speaking simply to hear myself speak. Fortunately, something sensible came out of my mouth. "Instincts. We need to pay more attention to them. We were so close to the truth, all of us." I did not include Solon and Melisande in my gaze, only the 3 that had been with me since the start. "I think that we allowed too much for the alien qualities of these two... _special cases_. Different they may be, but not _so_ different in essential ways. Can we start thinking more in terms of how they are _like_ us?"  
  
Phedre was the first to nod. "It cut like a knife when your mother told me I was 'too close to the problem' to be able to tell her anything about Imriel's devotion to you. Therefore, I won't tell you about any feelings." Imriel and I exchanged glances and turned in our seats to face her more fully. "However.... when you say you want to save them, from themselves and each other... I have no idea how such a thing is even possible. They are not just ancient, they are so much _more_ so, its hard to grasp what their status is. How could they fit in here, how did they fit in where they have come from? Were they ever what could be called normal?"  
  
"They were the strongest of their kind, _kinds_." Melisande said. "They had to be, only the most powerful could have survived, the most adaptable... or mayhap its Merrin alone carrying them both. We don't even know for certain if Sushulana would have been all that unusual on her home ... what?"  
  
All 4 of us were smiling, incapable of imagining a world where Sushulana would be considered typical of the norm. Imriel explained; "Her own words discounted that notion. So, rather fortunately, she is used to being one of a kind."  
  
"Alright then, that was a whole world, could there be other survivors?"  
  
"Unlikely." Solon shook his head, looking up at the stars. "From what I can surmise, they have tracked each other through some sort of aether through something so vast..." he pointed up at the stars, "... yes, look there. I believe that they can locate each other because their traces, their signatures, are unique enough to be found with ease, even at great distances or among a whole soupy multitude of other life-paths. Others of their kind would have been equally noticeable." He paused to look to Phedre for confirmation. "Does that make any sense?"

Phedre nodded, and then looked to me in turn.  
  
"It does." I had to admit, and that lead me to ponder something else. "You will be taking custody of Merrin, then?" That question was so blunt that I may as well have dropped the moon on the old man's head. Inexcusable, coming from me in that way. It has been said that Sushulana was having a bad influence on me, however I had my reasons. Solon was proving entirely too brilliant for my comfort. I had a question that needed to be answered, and I had a need to see what was under his self-assured exterior.  
  
Unfortunately, Melisande had an answer ready for him. "Naturally." She locked my cold gaze with a colder one. "You and Sushulana brought your troubles to us, our home was subject to an attack by a Dragon, and Solon is the rightful authority of this land. Who would see it any other way?"  
  
No doubts from either of them, no fear of a trap. That did not sit well with me. "Very well then." I nodded, accepting that judiciously. "Sushulana wants asylum in Terre'D'Ange. I have decided to grant it."  
  
That _did_ get a reaction, everyone in the carriage tensed a little. Only a little, they assumed I was playing some sort of power game. All but Melisande; "That means you have decided to be the one to tell her... all of what we have learned."  
  
The sudden pressure behind my eyes made me feel as if my head was about to split open. I kept my teeth together as I said; "Well I don't think that old Lizard is turning himself in because he wants to do it himself, do you?" Melisande said nothing, and disappointingly, neither did Imriel. "Very well then. Yes, I'll pay the price for your prize. However, should things change..."  
  
Solon dropped his head fractionally. "You are not only taking on an avowed war-lover, a trait of her's that obviously disgusts you, but also make allowances for a devious monster who is having what might be a temporary change of heart?"  
  
Oh.... that was a slip that showed just how distracted Solon's formidable mind was. Melisande, sitting right next to him, rounded on Solon and asked with a deceptively gentle voice; "You did just that yourself, not so long ago. So many of my countrymen see me that way, and I was in a state of flux when I arrived here... dear husband, have I ever given you reason to regret me, us, or any of this?"  
  
Solon shook his head. "You must admit that my time with Sushulana was limited, to a rather difficult interview and an even more difficult encounter with that Dragon. Not having spent the night with her, I perhaps have a different opinion of her than the rest of you, and I am not unhappy about _that_."  
  
Phedre leaned forward to speak before Solon could become too irritated, or feel cornered in a carriage that he might well have paid for. "Governor, allowances can be made for those we call 'heroes', yes? Sushulana may be liable to battle-lust, and has views on war that would make even a Skaldi blink. Yet there is also her relentless honesty, an instinctive drive to be helpful, and her refusal to look down on anyone... did you notice how Merrin's insults to her own person went barely noticed... and how insults to _us_ earned him a startlingly vehement attack? And I submit to you, until you have seen her with children, you cannot begin to guess ...." She sighed, and bowed her head, fingers  on the bridge of her nose. "... Princess, you are taking on a great deal, any aid I can give is yours. However, my point is, we make allowances for our so-called Heroes. Deeply flawed, some of us are, and yet those of us here have the Social graces to present ourselves to higher society in a way that makes us acceptable at 1st glance. Phaing lacks that utterly, she is deliberately offensive at first blush as often as not, perhaps as defensive instinct.... instinct." Her dark, god-touched eyes flashed between Melisande and myself.  
  
"Yes?" Melisande asked, fascinated to see Phedre deductive reasoning at work.  
  
For my part, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was about to be revealed.

  
"Phaing, Sushulana rather.... her mother's people were horrified, and the choice they gave her.... was because of their fear of _Dark_ Alfar. What if that race has something in them that gives them an instinctive talent for, and attraction to, violence in all it's forms? Not evil or an inborn spiritual defect, that's not possible, people's soul's don't work that way... not from birth. No, this is something in her blood, the way a Wolverine's innate ferocity works. And, she _can_ control it, I can't imagine anyone living as long as she has being otherwise." Phedre smiled at me. "Sushulana is not evil, simply hot-blooded in a way that is new to us."  
  
Imriel found my hand and let out a deep sigh, head back on the cushioned headrest. "She chose her objective advocate well." He had said that to me,and loud enough for Phedre to hear it was well. I was so relieved, and happy with them both, that I allowed a bump in the road to throw my head on his shoulder, my eyes closed, and a heart far more at ease than it had been since before Merrin's arrival.  
  
Solon exploited the moment of silence. "Merrin is what we need to be thinking and talking about now. Hmmm... an objective advocate, Merrin may need one of those as well, an unbiased observer to provide some insights." He looked at the four of us, only briefly. "My dear, would you mind?" He asked Melisande.  
  
"I would be honored. I was not so terribly distracted by the language he used earlier today. Although, I am curious to find out what he meant by 'neandertal'. "  
  
" _Us_ , love. He meant all of us." Solon looked around. "Ah, well, I am afraid further discussion regarding the beast will have to wait. This hill is the one."


	9. 34

 

 

34

We were escorted by six out-riders at this time, despite what Solon had said. Jharroque insisted that he and the men from the ship were fit and able to take their turn guarding us, and Solon had felt bound to match that number with mounted guards from the Fort. Our Marines rode poorly, and dismounted as soon as our carriage halted. Solon's men rode on to make a quick circuit of the hill.

Imriel left the carriage by jumping out and faced Solon as he stepped down. "Regarding Merrin, we must not say or do anything that could trigger an extreme reaction." Solon shrugged him off as if Imriel was speaking childishly. "Not a _sliver_ of anything doubtful, agreed?"

This time Solon did react, and hesitate, before nodding.

"Solon! You can not have been thinking of that, nor anything like it." Phedre was incensed, nearly coming up off her seat as she leaned into her argument. "You can't do that to a Dragon, or anyone else with what may be an unstable mind."

"Have we not learned from his very mouth that this Dragon is not insane. You yourself looked at him, and the rest of you. Did anyone see anything to indicate that the Dragon is actually insane? _That_ part of all their fiction would appear to be over with."

"Appear, yes, but we were looking through his mind-magic. I think we have to see him with our own eyes to be so certain." Melisande stepped away from the carriage, away from the rest of us, and looked up at the hill. "At this moment, my greatest fear is that we won't find anything up there at all... that he may have changed his mind, leaving us to wonder what the truth really is, mayhap for the rest of our lives."

Leave it to Melisande to conjure up a possibility worse than coming face to face with a Dragon.

Once she has spoken her fear, it became one for all of us, of course. We hurried up to the top of the small rise with our Marines, Solon's mounted men still circling around the base of the hill, and still finding nothing. The top of the hill was familiar in every way, which was reassuring. A quick look around revealed that Merrin was indeed missing, and I felt a stoke of hot panic when I thought of Sushulana. She was in a Fort, alone in a room where some of Solon's incense may, or may not, be holding her fast asleep, and if Merrin was after her...

We were given little time to speculate, thankfully. The sound of the Dragon flying reached our ears, and soon Merrin was visible, in silhouette under the moonlit clouds. He was just as vast and awe-inspiring as he had been by day. Curiously, the dread that his mere appearance had caused by day was missing in the softer light of night. Merrin dropped lower and lower, eying us from a distance, and landing reluctantly, midway down the gentlest slope of the hill. With a heavy, grinding sigh, the great beast began walking towards us... and walking, and not seeming to get any closer. I could not understand it until he entered a shallow depression, giving our eyes a better sense of his location. Merrin was shrinking with every step he took towards us, thus the strange twist to our perspective. The process accelerated now, he reared up and flowed into a human shape, and shrank so rapidly that he nearly disappeared from view. We stepped forward, and were barely able to keep his head and shoulders in view. Merrin snatched a black robe from a tree branch as he passed by, and wrapped it round himself before crossing the last stretch of ground between us.

Merrin stood over six feet tall, with grey hair that did not fall bellow his ears. His hawk-nosed face could be taken for weather-beaten, or care-worn if his history was known to the observer. Merrin was not ugly, his stern face had a quality that women could not help be drawn to; he had a dignity, a strength that came solely from within and was not threatened by or dependent on anyone around him. This did not surprise me, the only thing that did was the bushy, salt & pepper mustache that extended beyond the ends of his lips.

The Robe fit him poorly and he stood before us in bare feet, which did nothing to diminish him. Merrin was the very image of a Desert Hermit, come to enlighten the decadent city-dwellers. What we appeared to be in his ice-blue eyes, I cannot say. Merrin allowed us a good, long look at him. Those piercing eyes were many things; heavy, ancient, weary, and yet the distortion of madness was not in them. He surveyed our little group and asked Solon; "Is it you, then?"

Merrin stepped up to the Governor of Cytheria and extended his arms, wrists crossed over each other. Solon blinked, and then withdrew a leather cord from his sleeve. "I am Ptolemy Solon, and I take you into custody for... destruction of property, and for being being a public menace." Merrin arched a wing-like eyebrow at him in an almost humorous way as Solon tied a purely ceremonial knot, and the old mage understood that look. "As for Carthage, we will speak of it, but that affair is outside my jurisdiction."

Merrin nodded solemnly. "Yes, I'm afraid it is outside all Earthly jurisdiction now."

None of our Guards unsheathed their weapons, nor did any of them feel the need to put a hand on Merrin. The man-shaped Dragon followed every suggestion as it was given, verbal and otherwise. The purely symbolic nature of his restraints made no difference, he was beaten. Not by anything we had done, nor by anything we could ever do. No, it was the horrors that had been visited on him, and his failure to keep Sushulana sane that had done him in. We were simply the caretakers of his demise.

A nod from Jharroque was all that was needed to make Merrin enter the carriage first, and sit on the folding seat in the middle. Joscelin and Imriel flanked him, hands on the hilts of their daggers, which was completely needless and very reassuring at the same time. Phedre sat next to Joscelin in the back, and Solon took the seat next to her. Thus did I find myself between Imriel and Melisande, facing backwards for the first time. As we started to move, I found it disagreeable, and this helped me force a question out of my mouth less than a minute after our return journey began. My question was for Merrin; "I find it strange that you did not kill anyone today. Why?"

Merrin could only muster enough emotion to give me a grumpy look. " _Why_?"

"Yes, why? A witness has told us of how thorough you were at Carthage. Welding gates shut, the harbor, fanning the flames into... a Firestorm."

"A witness, one of those that I spent a week and considerable effort getting out of that damned place, I presume?" Merrin was grouchy now, I knew that in any other place and circumstance he would have never even deigned to notice my questioning.

"Yes, and one other. One from the army the _Alfar_ had raised to oppose you. You timed that little demonstration of your power rather well, a flashy display of power in front of thousands of witnesses, for no other purpose than to enhance your reputation and instil ...." My words trailed off as Merrin started looking about him sharply, more animated than he had been since meeting us. He looked at each of us in the eye, a somewhat chilling experience, yet his surprise brought him closer to our level.

"Well I'll be eternally damned... she never told you?"

"Told us what?" Oh dear Gods, I thought, how much worse can this get for her?

"About the alliance. About what they were planning."

Solon, rather strangely, tried to stop Merrin. "Emperor, if you please-"

Merrin cut him off. "Fear not, my mind is barred, and no associations made by what I am about to say will reveal anything about you to me." Solon was still going to try to interrupt him, until Merrin firmly added; "They have the right to know!" Merrin's intensity had nothing to do with power, but a yearning for justice. By 'they' he clearly meant us, the D'Angeline people.

"Very well then," I said, as steady in voice and bearing as I could muster, "if you please?"

Merrin faced me fully, an approving glint in his eye. "Carthage and the Tatar il-Khan have secretly exchanged embassies for years. They have been plotting to divide Europe between themselves. Arragonia, Terre'D'Ange and all Caerdicci lands to Carthage, Skaldia, the Chowat and Illyricum to the Tatar. You managed to throw their timing off, but I believe that they were not more than 6 weeks from the launching of the Tatar invasion when things started to fall apart for them."

Everything else diminished to mere foot-notes in my mind, even the fate of our own selves or the immediate presence of a Dragon of monstrous power. The scope, the evil, the arrogance of that plot, it was so crushing that the personal trials of us all shrank to insignificance in that moment. And the most grim and inescapable part of it was how close they had come to success. Only the brave stand made by one city in Aragonia, and Imriel's indomitable courage & love, had saved us all.

We had never even known....

I rounded on Melisande, sitting right next to me, and was treated to the sight of her not only flinching, but cringing away from me. Later, Phedre told me that the look on my face made her fear that I was going to throw Melisande bodily from the carriage. "We didn't know for certain!" my mother-in-law said, eyes begging me to believe her. "So many vanished trying to find proof, only Sunjata even survived there."

Imriel put a hand on my knee to calm me, and it fortunately worked, and started firing questions of his own at Merrin; "No, it would not have worked so smoothly. Akkadia is our ally, and a mighty one."

Merrin shook his head. "You are forgetting Ephesium. They sided with Carthage, merely to attempt to counter your own alliance. Dupes, is what they really were. In order to march an Army into Europe, Akkadia would have had to march through Ephesium anyway, and they... you, Governor, would not have been able to ignore Ephesium in any event. You could have conquered them, if you had directed all your resources to the task, but it would likely have been the work of a couple of years. By then, it would have been over for Europa. Oh, you might have been able to ship enough aid to the Helles to fend off a lesser Tatar Horde sent there way, but that would have been the extent of it. Am I correct, Ptolemy Solon?"

With a visibly tight reign on his facial expressions, Solon nodded.Ours is a world that has no need of monsters, not Dragons or Demons nor, any of it. No, not when we have people that can conceive of such things. How can men clever enough to make such plans dream of no better outcome than to place other men in chains? The _best of all possible worlds_ , Sushulana had said. If I had thought of those words then, I would have laughed in such a way as to make all those around me question my _own_ sanity.

Something clicked in Imriel's mind. "Sushulana, she knew, has known for some time. She told the Skaldi, be Europe's shield! But why didn't she tell _us_? It makes no sense... and the way she was looking for forgiveness..."

Merrin grimaced, and then shook with a tiny bit of laughter. "For the same reason Lady Melisande did not, perhaps. It would have been somewhat unbelievable, wouldn't it? Moreover, it would have been rather self-serving... ridiculously so, given the circumstances after that message she sent you. Prince, would mentioning that have been something you yourself would have done in her place?"

Imriel shook his head. "Try as I might, I cannot imagine myself in the sort of position she has boxed herself into, with your damnable help, I might add." Merrin closed his eyes, and sagged again. Imriel continued on another tact; "Ah, well, she is a bit Muleish."

"Her spirit animal is the Horse, in point of fact." That in itself was a fascinating concept, but Merrin was getting testy. Perhaps his impending incarceration was weighing on his mind. "Sushulana told you a good deal about me. She did it in order to avoid speaking too much of herself, I surmise."

"You are wrong." Joscelin responded. "She did the opposite, revealing things about herself that I found difficult to credit at the time. Not that it was so unbelievable... but that anyone would let such things be known about themselves _at all_..." His face was a stony mask, but his eyes were blazing indignantly at Merrin. "Buying time, holding back from revealing you to us, hoping.... for what, might you ask? For something that had already happened! Your mind was already your own, indeed, you had never lost it in _the first damned place._ " The righteous fury of a Casseline was a frightful thing to behold, Merrin kept his eyes closed. "She did a better job of protecting you than you did for her, and now you want one of us to be the one to tell her the truth about _you_ , Dragon?"

Joscelin ended his speech with a firm shake of his head. His right fist crashed into his left palm, and he brought both hands under his chin. It was almost an attitude of prayer, save for the way he never stopped glaring at Merrin.

"You don't understand." Was all Merrin had to say. There would not be any great breakthrough with him, not the way there had been with Sushulana.

Melisande had recovered from the idea that she had nearly lost her relationship with her son's wife, just enough to ask the right question at the right time. "Then help us to find an understanding. First of all, you tell us your world is dead. The whole world, all of it. That is an unspeakable notion, all the more so since you seem to indicate that it happened quickly. How? By what means could something so fantastic even have happened? What.... no, _who_ could killed a whole world?"

Merrin opened his eyes and gave her a stare worthy of a dead fish. "Who do you think?"

"I can't imagine.... oh gods no!"

"Oh yes, _Gods_."

We were all silenced by Merrin's words, and might have remained so for the rest of the ride, were it not for Solon. He, and he alone, was able to fix Merrin with the gaze of a near-equal, in the intellectual level. "So, Sushulana told the truth of it. You have killed Gods?"

Merrin shook his head and gazed up at the stars. "I have no idea what the end result was. I hurt them, stymied them, banished them for a time, somehow. Killed? Gods, as a rule, are primarily composed of ideas. How, in all creation, does one kill an idea?"

"By proving it false." Phedre interjected with surgical precision.

"Ah, I begin to understand what Sushulana sees in this one. I presume that is was you that your influence that has her abandoning her various phony names?" Merrin's smile faded as Phedre shook her head. He then glanced at Melisande, and then Imriel. I could not help smiling as he gazed swept over me, and then up and down as if taking me in fully, for the first time. " _You_? An aristocrat, born and bred? Well now, you people are just full of surprises."

"I am glad to hear we can surprise you. Hopefully, we can do more than just that." Was my only answer for the Dragon.

"I beg your pardon?"

Phedre answered for me. "What she means is, we want to help you, so that you may help _us_ undo some of the damage that has been caused. You and your fellow traveler have given we of this world more than one source of considerable angst, misery and confusion in the last month."

"And that is assuming that your activities have been restricted to what we know of." Solon added. "What have you been up to in other parts of the world? What else are we going to have to deal with because of you?" Merrin did not answer him, nor even appear to notice the question. "Dragon, what other messes will Sushulana have to clean up on your behalf?"

Merrin could not ignore him now. "Yes, of course, I will tell you all you wish to know." His teeth clicked as he ducked his head and slowly turned away from Solon. His defeated eyes fell upon me, and Imriel. "After you people have done as I asked. Once Sushulana has learned the truth from you, I will be an open book for you all." We both must have shown our distaste for the task Merrin had set for us. "Yes, it must be you, those closest to her. It won't be believable coming from anyone else."

My eyes flicked to meet Phedre, and she instantly gave me a nod. Martyr complex? Call it what you will, but her drive to do what was righ at any cost was an even greater comfort than Imriel's presence at that moment.

And it would have been so very easy to put it on her, Sushulana's preferred objective judge.

Just as quickly, I shook my head. No, not this time, and not Phedre. Not even Imriel if I could help it. As dreadful as this duty was, I would accept it, and see it through without anyone to use as my support while Sushulana needed me support her. I knew it would be horrible, as indeed it was, yet Merrin was right. Only someone that could feel things as she herself did could have a prayer of seeing the _Alfar_ through this.

 

***

Once we arrived at Paphos. Merrin was sitting erect in his seat, head held high, looking for all the world as a Noble would on the way to exile or execution.

" _Justicar_ .... Sushulana called you that, after you called her Truthseeker. What does that mean?" Solon asked carefully.

Merrin did not look directly at Solon when he answered, nor at any of the rest of us. His eyes flickered here and there, and I think he was trying to get used to his new perspective. He was seeing the world from down here with us 'little-folk'. His speech was slow, distracted; "We all hold a special place in our hearts for that which we consider to be rare and precious in the universe. For myself, its is the thing so unusual that in many places, many hearts, its existence is a myth." He spared Solon a quick glance. "Justice. That is my passion."

Merrin's neck craned about when we entered the city proper. I wondered if perhaps he was an avid tourist. He was interested in everything, his gaze even lingering on common dwellings and the one cart moving down the street at ths nighttime hour. I felt a chill as he licked his chops while we passed the Ox pulling it.

"You can't be hungry?" I asked. You ate a horse a few hours ago."

Merrin nodded, and without a hint of irony or humor, he said; "And I could use another." His head snapped around and beheld the Fortress. Conversation died yet again in the shadow of that grim place. "She is still in there?"

"Yes, but she fell asleep-"

"Yes yes, I know, else I would not have contacted you when I did." I exchanged glances with Imriel when he said that, feeling a new trepidation without knowing why. Imriel merely blinked at me.

Solon glanced behind him, at our Marines, and then at Melisande, who had regained her composure in a somewhat icey way. She leaned farther away from me than she had been already, and then turned to me with that look. It was a look that reeked of 'I know something you should know'. Out loud, she said; "I do believe your men may have been overstating their fitness for further duty."

I did not want to rise from my seat and make those loyal men feel unselfconscious, Joscelin did so for me, and then nodded. Surviving a direct attack from a Dragon and hours spent on unfamiliar horses had been a poor finish to a long day. Unlike the rest of the Marines, they had spent the previous night still billeted on that ship. I nodded to Imriel, who dismissed them for the night and distributed coins for them to find the sort of bedding they preferred in this town. Jharroque gave us a lingering glance, and a stern look at the back of Merrin's head, before he wisely rode off without saying a word.

Both of the Marines we had left behind were waiting for us inside the dimly lit courtyard. I found it odd that one or even both of them were not in the Guardroom relaxing with the rest of the Garrison. They stood at attention near a pair of Solon's men, and there did seem to be some tension between then. Another complication, our men and his were not getting along, how wonderful. Chalcondyles and Voz were there as well, and the scribe held a shiny pair of manacles. Shiny, as if new, or polished to a high sheen, as if they wanted to make a good impression on their new captive.

Captive the Dragon may have been, yet he also retained a sense of himself that placed him on a different level. He stood the moment our carriage came to a halt before the inner gate. Merrin stepped down as Voz opened the little door and swept past him to confront Chalcondyles. "I trust that all your arrangements have been made?"

Voz was a little disturbed, perhaps by the breach of protocol. The senior member of the party is the one that ought to dismount from a vehicle first. So, by rights, the captive should have been last to set his feet on the ground, not the first. The tall, scarred, well-armed Mercenary was a man of the world, knowledgeable of decorum, and glanced at Solon in some alarm. The Governor tapped his temple and then his wrist, a signal of some sort that put Voz at ease as he put out an arm to help me dismount.

If Voz had been shaken, Chalcondyles was in fact shaking so hard that the chains he held were rattling in his hands. Merrin raised his leather-wrapped hands and waited patiently.

Imriel walked past me muttering something about the whip of Kushiel. "He's not looking outside himself now, not in a city where everyone fears and hates him!" he snapped at Chalcondyles, and to Merrin; "If you please?" before unwrapping the leather thong. Chalcondyles recovered himself almost instantly and snapped the cuffs around Merrin's wrists, and shot Imriel a sulky glance once he was done.

There are some people in this world that are simply ill-deserving of any help.

Voz, on the other hand, saluted Imriel in a way that conveyed some gratitude and put one hand on Merrin's shoulder to march him inside. I looked back at the carriage, to see that Phedre and Joscelin had stepped down, but Solon had sat next to Melisande to confer in whispers with her. They showed no desire to come with us immediately, and that suited my plans perfectly.

Chalcondyles was not so happy to see that we intended to enter the Fortress and attempted to stand in our way. "Not until-"

"We are taking Sushulana out of this place with us right now, if we have to carry her." I told him, and this time I was making a deliberate effort to sound like my mother.

With a glance at Solon, the scribe backed out of our way, blinking like a Frog. I should have looked more closely at him, i might have seen something else in those bulging eyes.

However, to tell the truth, it was already too late.


	10. 35

  

 

35

  
  
  
Voz was already ten paces ahead of us by the time we entered the two-tiered, galleried hall. It had been the primary audience chamber, centuries ago when this place was the seat of residence for whoever controlled this island. It was dark and shadowy now, lit by just a few mirror-backed lamps that did as much to annoy my eyes as they did to help me see where I was going. Imriel and I were followed by Phedre and Joscelin, with our Marines bringing up the rear. I assumed Chalcondyles was also following, but we would not see Solon's men until the Governor himself deigned to follow us.  
  
Voz looked back over his shoulder at us, and then hauled Merrin around by his shoulders to make him back towards one of the many alcoves, to let us pass. It was a completely needless gesture, and one that earned him a scathing look from Merrin.  
  
At that moment three things happened, nearly at the same instant.  
A metal collar that appeared suddenly, moving unsupported as it emerged from the shadows behind Merrin. It was open like a clamshell, and I caught just the flash of short, sharp spikes or nails on the inside of the collar. Then it snapped shut around Merrin's neck with a click. He instantly went rigid, and his mouth opened wide for a roar, with naught but a strangled gasp emerging. He went pale almost immediately, yet what my eyes were fixed on was the collar itself. There were runes carved into that collar, fresh and shining. I could not read them, but I knew in an instant what they must be, and it chilled me to my core.  
  
You don't dare to use a Dragon's true name against him, not if he is insane. But, as Merrin had informed us, not 3 hours past, he wasn't insane. And we, Sushulana rather, had given them his true name without thinking, and none of us had thought of it since!  
  
Behind me, two snaps, two bodies hitting the stone floor, and other things clattering on stone, weapons drawn... I had to wrench my gaze from Merrin and the smiling Voz to see...

Chalcondlyes had indeed brought up the rear of our formation, and had shot our marines in the backs of their necks with darts. They lay twitching in their breif death-throws, thin bits of fletching protruding from their necks. Chalcondyles had already dropped his murder weapons and pulled two more from under his cloak. They were strange little crossbows, the swing-arms were over and under the dart, instead of side by side, and the little dart would seem incapable of doing much harm, were it not for the poison that discolored the tips. The man we had all taken for a Hellenic scribe was smiling now, and looked more like a snake than a Toad as he aimed one weapon at Joscelin and one at Phedre. I could see that he was used to handling such weaponry, and no doubt had killed many people in the course of his career. "You were warned, Prince. You should have kept your mouth shut about our little organization."  
  
Joscelin had drawn his sword, but he slammed it back into its sheath and drew his daggers, and moved to shield Phedre with his body. After a brief moment, Imriel did the same, trying to shield me as well. I soon found myself back-to-back with Phedre. Our men were making the Casseline gesture of defense, rather than the attack that the swords would have symbolized. It was as close that either man would come to begging for my life and Phedre's as well. Once again, she and I were relatively helpless as our beloved men put their very flesh between us and harm.  
  
This time, I did not forget to look up.  
  
Barely visible were four disembodied crossbows in the gallery to my right, and three more on the left one. These were not the little, toy-like weapons that Chalcondyles menaced us with, but the sort that were meant to pierce armor from great distances. I strained to see more, and there were men holding them with the armor of Fortress guards. They also wore black masks. Hiding their faces, from _us_ , I found that most interesting. They wanted to avoid being recognized, and remembered by us...  
  
"Yes, Princess." a new voice said from the shadows. "The Galleries are filled with men who will shoot you down without hesitation. Tell your men to lay down their weapons. You will come to no harm, so just-"

"NO!" was my response.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" There was something familiar about that voice.  
  
"Hold fast Imriel, Joscelin! If these fiends thought they could get away with murdering us, they would have done so already. Chalcondyles," I spat out the name as if I had been sucking venom from a snake-bite victim, "stand aside. We are leaving, as you knew we would. Our Kingdom and our Allies know exactly where we are."  
  
"Perhaps not." Hrolvath stepped out of another shadowy alcove. He had similar armor on, and an axe resting on each of his broad shoulders. "Oh, I'm afraid your men met with a rather nasty accident before they could post your messages back at Messina. The sea can be such a treacherous place. Your dear mother only has the most vague idea of where you are and what you are up to, little Princess. In truth, if anyone back in the City of Whores is at all worried about you, it is only a recent development."  
  
This was devastating news, and he clearly relished delivering it. Imriel saved me from despair by making one of his little quips; "That was some performance you put on back there, were you recruited straight from the Theater, or did you take lessons at Guild expense?" In a more serious tone, he added; "City of Whores? Not exactly, not for you. I'm afraid that pity alone could get the likes of you betwixt the thighs of any woman in Terre D'Ange."  
  
Imriel was facing Voz, who had a pair of his own daggers in hand and taken a step towards us. He could not see how Hrolvath tensed with anger, arms twitching as if he meant to throw one or the other ax. Only seconds had passed, yet I knew that time was against us.  
  
"Enough!" I shouted. "We are leaving! You have not killed us yet because you don't know if your new prize can be bent to your will. Until you do know that, you don't dare touch us, nor does the rest of the Unseen Guild. So just shut up and get out of our way, or cut us down! Either way it ends _now_ , I am already tired of having one crossbow aimed at my face and others at my back." That was a reminder to our men of how vulnerable we really were here. And, to allow Chalcondyles to feel that he could win something here, I added; "And Sushulana will-"

He cut me right off, just as I knew he would; " _Not_ possible. And just where would you want to take her, the Temenos? How you would get there is beyond me... in fact, you'd find it impossible to leave this city tonight in any case."  
  
"Jussst go!" Merrin sounded as if he were being strangled, and looked worse. He was trembling as would a men with a fever, and sweating as well. His chest heaved as he drew in breath, and it came out as a thin, reedy pant. "Go! They made a mistake." He rolled his eyes back, and I saw that his collar had not been levitating. It was held in place by a man at the end of a black pole affixed to the collar near the hing. Merrin looked at Voz;  
"You made the spikes too long. If I turn around quickly enough, they will cut my throat. Even if that lackwit behind me lets go, there are pillars on either side. NO, if you try to grab me, the job will be done before you can bl-blink..." He looked at us, at me, "... what are you waiting for?!"  
  
Chalcondyles revealed his high rank in the Unseen Guild by shouldering Hrolvath aside. With room to pass, we did so as quickly as we could. Imriel half-carried me, I was going backwards, looking at Merrin because I simply could not look away. He'd had a way out, a death he did not fear instead of all the torture and humiliation that lay ahead of him. He had thrown it away to give us a way out. "Why?"  
  
"She would never have forgiven me..." The last glimpse I had of him was when the man holding the pole finished unscrewing it, and Voz brutally kicked his legs from behind to make him drop to his knees.  
  
"Its going to be a long night for you, you old lizard." The Mercenary promised.  
  
I stopped looking, and caring, about him when I had to step over the bodies of our fallen Marines. They were both utterly still, and would be forever more.

 

***

  
  
Solon and Melisande appeared to be surprised to see us return so quickly. Melisande stood up and left the carriage, then suddenly stopped short of coming to us. At first I thought it was the sight of the drawn daggers, or the wild-eyed expressions on our faces that held her back. She of the Unseen Guild must have known something of what had transpired in that Hall. Solon was still sitting in the carriage, and he reached out to clamp an firm hand on her shoulder. For the second time that night, I was fighting down my anger at Melisande. How could she _not_ know what just happened?  
  
"Where is she?" Melisande asked. She must have meant Sushulana.  
  
"Stay with your friends if you like, we are leaving!" Two D'Angelines had just been killed, our guardians, my barely suppressed fury must have been evident in my voice. Melisande made way for Phedre and Joscelin, who barely spared her a glance. I saw Melisande catch sight of Voz and Hrolvath, who were following to make sure we left. She understood what had happened in the blink of an eye. still with her back to the carriage, she made as if to hug me, which would have been a singularly stupid thing to do under the circumstances, but there was something in her hand that she was trying to pass me. I didn't see it or understand the gesture until it was too late.  
  
I didn't understand until a small and furtive creature darted out from beneath the carriage and took in from her. I yelped and skipped backwards, and a child slipped between us, and rolled to her feet holding up a shiny key in her hand.  
  
“Well, that certainly puts a new complexion on things.” Chalcondyles commented dryly.

Voz nodded and stepped up to pat the child's head. “Well done Belinda” and then the other hand balled into a fist and blasted straight into Melisande's face. It happened so quickly that once again I didn't realize what was going on until after the back of Melisande's head rebounded off the side of the carriage and she started falling to the pavement. When I say _fast,_ the attack came faster than I'd ever seen Imriel move starting from such a casual beginning. There had not even been that shift in the eyes that Sushulana displayed. There was nothing in Voz that came between his violent urges and its expression.  
  
I grabbed Melisande's limp body before her head could hit the paving stones. There was much scuffling and shouting behind me while I held my Husbands mother and attempted to ascertain if she was alive or dead. Imriel was right behind me, shoving Voz away and drawing his weapons again. Phedre had come to help me and collided with the girl, who cursed her wickedly (but nothing as hair-raising what Sushulana would have said) and Joscelin was cursing as well.  
  
Chalcondyles clapped, and more masked soldiers with Crossbows appeared on the battlements around us. Phedre helped me carry Meilisande into the carriage, my mind whirling, my vision going dim, but we managed to get her to safety while our dear men covered out retreat yet again.  
  
Voz sneered at us. “Don't go too far away now, you hear?” As if we had the means, or any knowledge of that damned island.  
  
“And this is how the Unseen Guild treats one of their own?” Imriel snarled at him while he backed up into the carriage.  
  
“It does when there is a conflict of interest, and said party is on the wrong side of the conflict.” A new voice came from the wall above us.  
  
“Truly, brother?” Solon asked the shadowy figure, with an icy reserve. “I think you have gone too far, allowing such an assault on my wife. And unless your schemes bring you great success, you will indeed be judged harshly.”

Ptolemy Dikaios, the blood-brother of Ptolemy Solon, grinned down at us all. “As none of my projects has gone astray thus far... unlike those of so many others... I am feeling generous enough to allow you and yours a few mistakes, and so be off with you. Morning will see clearer heads prevail, I am certain of that. And as for you, your Highnesses, you still have many days before your ship arrives. Twilight Rhapsody, isn't it? You may pass the time at the good Governor's palace, or at the Lady's villa, but not here. We have serious work to do, taming a Dragon, and the mad _Alfar_ will be helpful in that. Don't ask about her again.” He raised his hand to Solon, and then waved to the Guards to open the outer gate. “You will be kept informed, dear brother, farewell!”  
  
“To my residence, now!” was Solon's only further word. He may have been looking at his brother, but the worlds were for the driver, who immediately set his team in motion. I saw none of that, Phedre and I were laying Melisande out on the floor of the carriage , and Solon joined us to examine her head. He cradled her skull carefully, keeping the back of her head off the floor. Melisande's nose was broken, and her eyes were starting to swell by the time the short ride was over. Solon called for his Chirugion and shot us all a hard look. “What exactly happened in there?”  
  
“Our guards were murdered by Chalcondyles and we were threatened!” Phedre spat back at him. “You didn't even _warn_ us!”  
  
“You think 3 ships arrive all at the same time in a harbor this small? That was the Guild, coming in force, and there was nothing I could do.”  
  
I glanced at them, fleetingly, and saw that they were both avoiding looking at each other. Believing I knew why, I avoided meeting Solon's eyes again. Melisande did not recover consciousness and her proud face had taken a bettering, but the real concern was what damage hitting the carriage had done to her head. We were shooed away by Solon's Chirugeon and her assistant helped carry her to a bed-shaped canvas frame, on which she was carried inside. I caught Imriel by his elbow when he made to follow them, and he seemed angry until he noted that Phedre was also staying in the carriage.  
  
Solon was crossing the threshold of his palace when he turned to see we were not following him. Already upset, his lips twisted angrily, as he said “Bah, do as you please!” and to the driver he added; “Don't let them make you run the horses all the way to the Villa, you'll ruin the team.”

And with that, he left us to our own devices.


	11. 36

       

 

36

  
  
One life-changing brush with disaster seemed to meld into another, yet, I could still think clearly. More than that, the horror of what I had done struck me with the sharp and piercing impact of a burning ember lodged in my eye. Sushulana and Merrin were prisoners of the Unseen Guild solely because of me. Mistaken intentions, no matter how good they may have been, had brought two tragic figures to a cheap and meaningless fate. Tools of the Unseen Guild... the both of them. This was worse than one mad Dragon acting alone, immeasurably so. If the two of them could be brought to heel, there was no limit to what that sociopath Guild could inflict on the world.  
  
I had led them straight into this trap, everything I had done, bringing them closer and closer to this ruin. I wanted to start screaming again and go running down the street, I wanted to tear my own hair out, go banging my head into the wall like some sort of Billy-Goat. Instead of doing any, or all of those thing at once, I simply sat still for a moment with Imriel's arm around my shoulders, and listened to the men speak as the carriage got underway.  
  
“Do you think our men back at the Villa are still alive?” Imriel asked.  
  
“Even the Guild can't be everywhere at once. They have been scrambling just as we have to keep up with this situation, but we do need to find Jharroque and his men quickly.” Joscelin spoke quietly, just above the rumble of the wagon.  
  
“How many of them do you think are here?” Imriel asked Phedre, and then looked to Joscelin when she said nothing, staring at the Palace as we moved away from it.  
  
“Ask Leander.”  
  
The cloaked coachman had been doing such a perfect job of being unnoticeable all day that I had missed him. Imriel had identified hm, and I wondered why he had told Phedre, and not mentioned it to me. Oh, yes, our wedding. I had been as gracious as I could manage, yet my discomfort must have shown through to him. I had known who he was then, of course, and he was not to blame at all for anything untoward... yet seeing him even now set my teeth on edge.  
  
Leander Maignard whirled around and blurted out; “Damn you, Prince! You knew from the start, but if you told anyone-”  
  
“Only the Queen's Companion knew, as you can see if you would look at Sidonie... and you can't help doing that, can you?” Ah, so _that_ was it. “Focus, Maignard! How many? Too few to keep us under control as well as the other two is my guess, based on what has happened. The Dauphin surprised, them, shocked them perhaps, but they did not _have_ to let us leave... or _did_ they?”  
  
“I believe you are correct, Prince. As far as I know, Melisande was not informed of all of this. She was certainly taken by surprise by everything that happened tonight. I did not dare look too closely, will she recover?”  
  
“T'would bode ill for your clan if she didn't, eh?” Joscelin groused.  
  
Imriel held up a hand and demanded of Leander once again; “ _How many_?” If he had to ask again, his tone made it clear that it would be with his fists.  
  
“You must be right, too few to cover more than that Fort and 2 very dangerous prisoners. The Guild has only turned 10 or 12 of the Garrison, which was enough to incapacitate or evict the rest of them. They may simply have let the rest go on leave for the night. As for the ships, it is hard to say. Those were not large ships, and the crews would not be members, perhaps a Captain or two,,, lets us estimate four actual Guildsmen on each ship. A few others may have arrived earlier, such as Chalcondyles. So, as it stands,” Leander broke off to guild the horses around a corner, “I venture that there are between 25 and 30 Guild members inside that Fort now, two thirds of them could be real fighters. The rest, opportunistic Jackals like that jumped-up Scribe.”  
  
“Enough to hold that fort against an attack, or maintain a long-term and very intense guard on those two, but not both.” Joscelin quickly calculated.  
  
“ _Attack,_ with what?” Leander whispered harshly. We were entering the city itself, dark and quiet at this hour, yet his training would not allow Leander to take any chance at being overheard.  
  
Phedre blinked, coming back to us at the opportune moment, and smiled. She pulled a key out of her pocket, the very one that Melisande had tried to hand off to me.  
  
“How...” I started to ask, then I recalled her colliding with the girl, Belinda. She had picked the little thief's pocket. “What do you think it is for?”  
  
“Melisande saw that we were being forced out of that place, and must have had every expectation that she would not be leaving herself. Such a small thing, it cannot be for the Gate. Imriel, care to hazard a Guess?”  
  
Imriel and Leander said at the same time, like the good students they were; “A sally-port.”  
  
They had named the secret exit most Castles have, one normally at the base of the wall. It is there to allow escape or to make attacks on besieging forces, thus the name. I sat bolt upright on the chair with one perfect, bright thought blooming in my head. In that little key, I saw our salvation.  
  
“What good is that?” Leander asked. “They will know you have it now, and post a Guard, set an ambush for you.”  
  
“ _Yeeees_ , once they know it is missing. There is a chance they don't know. Anafiel taught me well. I did not simply take it, I replaced the key with a coin of nearly equal size and weight. A Gold Sovereign, in this case. So, not only would a casual pat of the pocket assure the Girl her prize was still there, a closer look would reveal more money than she has ever had for herself.” She sighed and shook her head. “However, Voz or Chalcondyles will find out eventually. It is perhaps too much to hope for, but they may remain ignorant until tomorrow.”  
  
“Stop the Carriage.” I ordered.  
  
Leander did so quickly, puzzled yet not doubting the firm tone of my voice. I turned to Phedre next. "Those silver cuffs, that collar, They are meant to restrain Merrin... not physically, but in a magical way?"  
  
"Yes, both perhaps, but certainly keeping him separated from the use of his powers, somehow. I don't think it could work without his true name, and they could not have done it in the first place unless he had barred his mind. He cut _himself_ off from his powers first, they only made certain he can't uncork his own bottle." She reflected briefly. "Silver is not strong, but not a terribly weak metal either. Should Merrin try to break his bonds, there will doubtless be a man standing by with a hammer, ready to break some of his bones."  
  
"Very well, not every blunder that led to this catastrophe was my own doing." I waved away her protest and drew my Stiletto, the very one that Phaing had admired, and I started cutting away the white lace on my dress. Imriel drew one of his own to help me.  
  
"What exactly do you think you are doing, Highness?" Leander dared to ask, as Phedre nor Joscelin ventured, dreading the answer no doubt.  
  
"We are going back in there, right now. Not tomorrow, not when our ship comes in, but as soon as our feet can take us there." Imriel met my eyes as I spoke, and then gave me a grim nod, to acknowledge what must be done.  
  
"We can't-" Joscelin protested.  
  
"You are _not_." On this occasion, it was well that I could make my voice sound so much like my mother. "The three of you will be finding Jharroque and his men, and then get up to the Villa. Between the seven Marines left to us, Leander's clan and Melisande's other people, you should be able to gather nearly as many people able to fight as the Unseen Guild has in the Fort."  
  
"Not quite, and that faction of the Guild is inside the walls of a stout fort." Leander said quickly, looking up and down the small street. "Rescuing you will be problematic at best."  
  
"Not if we can free Phaing." Tonight of all nights, it was Phaing that I wanted her to be. "Between her spells and her way with weapons, what are 20 Guards to her?"  
  
Phedre shook her head vehemently. "No! she was in a drugged sleep. How do you think you can even find her?"  
  
"Well, hopefully, she is snoring." Imriel finished his work and pulled up my skirt so that he could wrap the white material around my leg. That was a good thought, under the skirt the white material would not show to give me away in the dark. The lacy bands may prove useful, and meanwhile protect my shins from scrapes.  
  
Joscelin stood up and shook his head as Phedre did. "You cannot be serious. We will not stand by and allow the Heirs to the Throne to go into that place and get your throats cut. The Queen would have our heads for even allowing you to go, and rightfully so."  
  
"No she would _not_." I finished wrapping my other leg and stood to face him. "We are still alive only because the Guild does not have positive control over their captives yet. Isn't that right, Leander?"  
  
The D'Angeline exile swallowed, and nodded.  
  
"And once they _do_ have that control, they will be probably kill us, yes?" Another nod. I turned back to Joscelin. "That is why they incapacitated Melisande, she would have defended us, and that is why Solon tolerated it. He may have even expected it. T'was rather convenient that his Chirugeon was at his palace, rather than at the Fort he has been living in, wasn't it?" I looked at Imriel, wondering how much more to say.  
  
He had a great deal to say; "It probably won't happen tonight, Merrin may be unbreakable, Phaing is rather willful yet she could turn out to be his weakness. After 72 years of degrading himself to keep her sane, he may be adverse to watching her being broken on the wheel, or whatever torments they have in mind, don't you think? No... we go in tonight because we cannot wait for those Guild people to settle in, solidify their position, and..." he glanced at me.  
  
"They think me weak. After my display on the battlements when Merrin landed, and other incidents, they won't be expecting aught from me but a quick retreat to the Villa. My stand in the Hall will be seen as an aberration. The two of us can sneak into that place, if we move right now, so give me the Key and go do as I ask."  
  
Phedre did so, regretfully. "At least take Leander with you?"  
  
He did not move, and I explained why. "Will anyone believe you, back at that Villa, if it is just you and Joscelin, coming to them with this story? Go, please. We will do what must be done."  
  
"No a chance. We will follow if we must..." Joscelin's resolve faltered when he saw Imriel and myself meeting his stare in a unified refusal. "What? What _is_ it that must be done?"  
  
We did not have time for this, and even more so, we could not have Imriel's foster parents throw themselves bodily upon us to prevent us from leaving the carriage. The both of them appeared ready to do just that. Perfectly rational, in their view of the world, and very wrong under the circumstances.

  
As an Heir to the throne, I had received extensive tutoring, and some of those lessons were in secrecy. One rainy day, a scarred old veteran returned from retirement to give instruction on the darker side of decision making, lessons backed by histories of past mistakes, and dark successes. The purpose of that particular lesson was to instill in us the knowledge that in some extreme cases, absolute ruthlessness was called for in an absolute monarch. Imriel had received such instruction as well. I know, he was sitting right next to me that day, months before he departed for Tiber.  
  
It was Imriel who explained the facts to Phedre and Joscelin now; "We are agreed that Merrin and Sushulana are far too dangerous to be left as potential tools for the Unseen Guild, yes?" He waited until they nodded. "Not only for our Kingdom, for everyone in this world. This cannot be allowed to happen." He drew a breath, and looked away, then back at me. "Thus.... we cannot leave them there, _alive_. If a rescue proves impossible, we have to kill them, one or both. If we only have time to cut their throats while they are chained down and helpless, then that is what must be done."  
  
I suppose that it would be seemly to record that I choked up, at least a little, tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, and hugged Imriel to me once more. This was not the case. I felt as if I was standing on a mountain top, watching and feeling the world crumbling beneath my feet. That sensation blocked out all tender feelings, I had a role to play to prevent that from ever happening. A lifetime of training to be a Queen finally took me over, my responsibilities overcoming personal feelings for that engaging Fey creature at last.  
  
Imriel has been looking to me as he spoke those words to his foster parents, I thought he was asking if I was ready to do all he was describing. I put my forhead to his and nodded. And that was all. If there was no time for a kiss, I certainly had no time to allow my feelings for an Sushulana to cloud my mind or my judgement once again.  
  
Joscelin sat down heavily, face blank, while Phedre hung her head low. Leander alone remained composed, so I asked him to take us to an ally narrow and dark, one leading to the sea-side of the Fort.  
  
"As it happens, that one right there will serve you."  
  
50 paces away there was an opening between the dark 2-story buildings that seemed to be in the right direction. I left the carriage without a backwards glance. Imriel was right behind me, and he did spare a glance and a word, which was more than I had the strength to do. “Please, don't look so grim. One way or another, we will be seeing each other again tomorrow.” I could hear a smile in his voice as he bade them goodbye.  
  
I stood in the entry to the alley with my back to the carriage as it rolled past, Leander doing a fine job of quietly moving off. I did not want to see how they were looking at me, and I cannot imagine how I must have looked to them. It was easy to understand Merrin in that moment, how the weight of people's opinion of him had forced him to give up playing the monster in the end.  
  
Tonight, _I_ might have to be a monster, and I was not playing.  
  
Imriel was by my side, and nodded at the far end of the ally, which was just wide enough for us to walk side by side. Thank Elua, Kushiel, Naamah, and every other God in our pantheon, Imriel was at my side and in perfect sync with my thoughts and my goals. I could not have gone another step forward without him. What a grand thing it was, the two of us being together, as always.  
  
  
It made me forget, for a brief while, that aside from each other, we were completely alone... and about to take on at least ten times our number of Unseen Guilds-men and attempt to free or kill the two most dangerous beings on our world.


	12. 37

   

 

 

37

 

It was midnight before we found the sally-port. Knowing that it would be near the shore, it was still tedious work to locate the little door with naught but the setting moon to guide us. I had reason to be glad for the wrappings around my legs, for this was a rocky coast and an unforgiving one. The tedium of those hours was rewarded by the discovery that the doorway was indeed unguarded. Beyond it lay a corridor that was unlit, and another half hour of groping, slow crawling brought us to the ghostly outline of another door.

There, we paused, putting our ears to the door and our eyes to any gap that might allow us to see what lay beyond. We sighed, and put our heads together, literally. There had been few times when we were alone together, and just a handful when we had been so removed from the rest of humanity. Phedre and Joscelin were miles away by then, and we had this dank little tunnel all to ourselves with not even a discreet guard hunkered down out of our sight. Such luxury it would have been to remain, such dire necessity driving us onward.

Locks fascinated me as a child; the intricacy of moving parts, the fine tolerances and the even finer touch required to put the whole thing together. My interests had moved on to other things, but I retained enough knowledge of such devices to fit the key in the lock, and open the door in perfect silence.

There was not a soul waiting for us on the other side.

What we found was a hallway with a dozen doors identical to the one we opened, and at each end were lamps that our eyes could not look at directly, so attuned to darkness were they. Before our eyes could adapt to the presence of light, we peered into the other doorways. They were cells, empty, and could have served as storage for anything, including people in disfavor. It was smart, but not uncommon to disguise an important door to look the same as the rest in the corridor. What surprised me was the number of cells here at the lowest level of the Fortress, T-shaped intersections at each end of the corridor indicated that there were many more at this level. The work of the Tiberian Empire, perhaps.

“The dungeon level.” Imriel told me in a whisper. “We may be able to find one of them here, but not likely. Too quiet.” A moment later, we heard something that sounded like furniture squeaking, faint and far off. We crept to the right, and made a left turn after carefully checking the way. Down another hall of cells, we found an L-shaped turn, allowing for one more left turn and no other option. We were just as careful here, and spied a man with a crossbow. He was not facing our way, but sideways to us with his weapon aimed into a cell. We were not arriving in the nick of time to save anyone; the man had rested the end of the weapon on the ledge of a small opening in the door, and seemed more interested in having a view of the proceedings than aiming his weapon. From his posture, he was clearly aroused.

There came new noises from that cell. We heard metal ringing oddly, wood squeaking, a haughty woman's voice, a man laughing, and the sound of yet another woman squealing and groaning around a full mouth. It was the later sound that was most familiar to me.

“Sushulana.” Imriel whispered to me unnecessarily after we pulled back around the corner. To speak now, with that Crossbowman 15 feet away, his lips were directly on my ear. I used the same method to tell him a plan of mine, where he would circle around and come down the hall from the other side while I distracted the Guard from this corner. Imriel shook his head, there was no telling what was down the hall we had not see yet, including more locked doors that might block the way. He bade me wait, and so we did.

It was not a long wait, for us. I could not help wondering what the time going by meant for Sushulana. As Imriel had expected, the Guard's hand wandered to his codpiece, and slipped inside. The other hand remained on the Crossbow, but not on the trigger.

Thinking ahead, Imriel bade me to remove my dress and underthings, loosen my hair and rub some dust onto my face and skin. The lace wrapped around my legs would remain in place, holding my sheathed daggers in place along the backs of my thighs. Still, we had a moment more to wait until the noise from the cell reached a higher pitch, and the Guard's face started to turn red.

The Guard never stood a chance. I came around the corner at a dead run, head low and my upper body hunched as Imriel stepped out and threw both daggers over me. The first struck the man in the throat, the second in the armpit and going deep enough to insure a quick kill. He collapsed, and I dove to snatch his crossbow before it could clatter to the floor. Fresh abrasions added to my disheveled look as I skidded across the stone floor, and managed to prevent any undue noise as the heavy weapon came to rest with bruising force across my arms.

Even so, the people inside sensed something was wrong. The sound of a falling body is distinctive, even if not hear clearly. And, as we had anticipated, they noted his absence at the small opening in the door. From inside, someone called out in Hellenic; “Arno, what's going on now?”

“Caught him playing with himself again.” I had coached Imriel in what to say in that language, which was a common tongue in this region. He dashed in and put on the guard's helmet, complete with black mask. Imriel also had my dress thrown over one shoulder, somewhat hiding the fact that he was not wearing the correct armor. I set the crossbow down and he hauled me to my feet roughly, and shook me until I let out a fearful yelp. “Got a new guest for you, one that is getting the full tour of our facilities. May I present the Dauphine herself!”

Imriel threw the bolt on the door (as expected, this was a door that bolted on the _outside_ ) and pushed me in ahead of him, arms pinned behind my back. There were two people inside besides Sushulana. One was a tall Mnekhetan woman with a bald head and a prosthetic nose. The other was a burly man with a Hellenic look about him, stripped to the waist with a whip in one hand and a hammer in the other. They both looked delighted to see me, stumbling and panting as Imriel's grip on my elbows inflicted enough pain to make me grimace realistically.

For her part, Sushulana went a little wild. She was naked as well, hanging by one ankle, the other leg folded double and pulled to one side by a rope around the knee. Her anus and vulva were stuffed full with painful-looking dildos, metal ones with tuning-forks at the ends. Her body was covered with dozens of welts, none bleeding or terribly serious, and her breasts looked swollen as if some sort of suction or a beating had been applied there. Sushulana was being forced to orgasm while being tortured, a nasty trick and one meant break her will, not to tease any information out of her. That much was obvious from the fact that her mouth was full of a dildo as well, one jammed so far down her throat that the bulge was visible. She could only breath because it was hollow, with a hole at the base that could be closed by one finger... a convenient and wicked means of control for the torturers.  
That device was bolted firmly in place on the floor, and to accept it Sushulana's head had been bent far back, making a blindfold unnecessary. She was held in place, but as soon as she heard the word _Dauphine_ , she started struggling.

Her struggles did not last for long.

As soon as the Mnekhetan woman saw me, she withdrew the hooked knife she had been holding to Sushulana's throat, and punched her in the stomach. She stepped towards me and cooed with a sickeningly toneless voice “Well-”

And that was all she had a chance to say. Our 'disguises' could only last a few heartbeats, and we did not give them that long. Imriel pushed me forward, just enough to send me into a somersault that carried me halfway to that evil woman. She saw the flash of the daggers in my hands just before I threw them. The first flew true, and the nose-less woman suffered a gashed hand slapping it aside, and my second throw caused her to take a panicked step back. That second throw was simply to buy me the heartbeat of time I needed to snatch up the lamp form the table at me right shoulder, and hurl it into her face. I was not finished, there was also a heavy set of iron bars on that table, and I snatched up one that was nearly a yard long as if it was nothing...

The next thing I knew, Imriel had me pinned to the wall, holding me tight and forcing the iron bar out of my aching hand. A red haze that I had not even seen coming faded from my eyes, and my breath whistled through clenched teeth. From inches away Imriel was staring at me as if he thought I had contracted some terrible disease.

I calmed myself, a little confused, and he relaxed his hold on me. “I have to take care of the one we left outside, I would rather you not look down.”

  
He put my dress in my hands and moved away to drag the dead Crossbowman into the room and started to close the door, then thought better of it. While he was doing that, I did of course look down, at the body of the evil woman I had just beaten to death. Oh, yes, that must be why my arms were throbbing, this was the first thought that came to me. I also wondered why I was not feeling ill, only a grim sense of satisfaction as I scanned the charred and smashed corpse. Then my eyes rose to look upon Sushulana, suspended in her torturous position, and I nearly fell sick before I could slip my dress back on. I fought the nausea down by promising to balance the scales in this house of horrors somehow. The fault may be mine for Sushulana's captivity, but the use that had been made of her here was all on the hands of the Unseen Guild.

The burly man was dead as well, his heavy hammer and flimsy whip had been a poor defense against a master swordsman.

Imriel and I went together to remove her from her bonds, and reached for the things that had been inserted into her nether regions first. Sushulana twisted frantically and shouted dimly past the thing that was gagging her, making some very negative sounds. Imriel backed off straightaway from what must have been a ticklish task for him. “We should un-gag her first.”  
How to do it was another matter, her weight held her down on it. Imriel cut the rope holding her knee and then lifted her by her hips, straight up. I knelt at Sushulana's side and put my arms around her shoulders, swinging her up and away from that thing her throat had been impaled on. She coughed, tears streaming down her face, and breathed deeply and quickly. Imriel switched his grip to her leg and cut the rope holding her ankle, we lowered her to the floor with her arms still tied tight behind her back and her legs spread wide. A shuddering hiss was her only comment.

“Sushulana, just relax, we will get you out of here.” to Imriel added; “Love, take care of her, I have to keep watch!” And with the crossbow held at the ready, he stood half in and half out of the doorway.

The _Alfar_ gasped up at me. “Barbs in them, you have to turn the key, the _fork_. Gnnhh... push in a little first.”

It was ticklish work indeed, I don't know how she was able to bear it making no noise louder than a harsh groan. The thing in her anus was similar to a Pear, the other had a diabolical set of barbs that would have torn her to shreds had I been the least bit careless. With Sushulana's guidance, the removal was done well and quickly.

“No!” I commanded in a low voice. “Don't try to sit up yet, roll to your left, yes.” My smaller knife lay nearby, and I used it to cut her arms and swollen hands free. She did sit up then, and threw her arms around me, hands limp and a deep shudder running through her body.

“Thank you. You did the right thing, please don't ever doubt that.” She was looking at the bodies, over my shoulder. I did not recall screaming ' _leave her alone_ ' as I bludgeoned that female torturer to death, I was told of that later. Sushulana had heard it, and in that moment she was worried about what I might think of myself later. The only comment this astonishing woman had regarding what had just happened to herself was; “They sure know how to turn your inner-self against you here.”

A last jolt of that terrible rage coursed through me, and then it was gone for good. In it's place came the fear of being caught flat-footed in this grisly room. “Can you walk?”

“I'll damn sure walk out of _this_ place!” Sushulana stood with my help and glanced around. “how much time do we have?”

Imriel answered; “We have no idea, but there is an exit from this Fort less then a minute's walking distance from where you are standing.”

“Ah, really? Let me think …. wasn't long before you got here that someone checked in, we may have a moment to think here.” She looked at her cuffs and the band around her neck. “Sliver?” Sushulana stared at where here own name was carved into the cuffs, and felt at the collar... and then blinked at us. “What the hell... personalized bondage accessories? Does everyone in this world of yours have to have such an impeccable sense of style?”

"They did that to Merrin too." I told her, rubbing the circulation back into her limbs. "His collar has spikes on the inside, and I could see the pain it is causing him. I think the worst part, for him, was being cut off from his powers."

She shot me a quick, heated glance. "Yes, I know, they carried me past him like I was a pile of treats. They used his _name_ ... oh Gods I'm such an asshole! I told them...damn!"

Imriel hushed her and tilted his head, trying to hear past the echo of her exclamation.

"Can you help us help us get to Merrin without your magic?"

"Huh?" She looked at me as if she had no idea what I was talking about. "What, this junk is supposed to work on me too?" She decided to test that notion right away, and whispered. " _Ristnas n-akai_.” Her weapons belt and Bow  & arrows appeared in a sparkling circle at her feet. I was just as thrilled and speechless as Imriel. Sushulana winked at me.

"You want to hear something ironic? Bloodmetal would have done the trick with me, with nothing fancy added. _Iron_ , the same ordinary manacles that they would have used on anyone else. Heh heh, I can't wait to see the looks on their faces... ouch!”

Blood and other fluids were seeping from her, and her feet had also been abused, I had to help her clean up a little, then I took the lace from around my legs and bound up her breasts with one length and wrapped the rest around her hips and crotch. It was a salacious look that would have raised eyebrows even in the strangest of parties, yet Sushulana refused to put on any clothes that people had died in. I could not blame her, yet that was all that was available. Sushulana snapped her swordbelt over the thong and offered the bow and arrows to me. She was shaking herself, recovering with practiced speed from her abuse, and she even giggled when she saw Imriel and I exchanging glances, and smiles. It was not her appearance that made us smile, however memorable it might be.

Sushulana was unaffected by those silver bands! With her magic we could lay waste to the Unseen Guild and take Merrin from them. He would be in our custody, perhaps with his bonds intact. Imriel relaxed his guard, and I ceased to be so worried about time. Sushulana gasped, and I turned back to her. She was looking at her hands, and the rings were still there, all but one. The delicate one with the pearls was missing, rather than one of the enchanted ones that had been on her fingers for centuries. “No.... _that_ one!”

Oh no, it was as I thought. That ring was a love-token, and there could never be any replacing the gift, nor the giver. I searched for it, but there were no hiding places in this room, nor many places on the bodies of the men for storing things. I turned to the body of the woman I had killed, to find Sushulana was blocking my view of it with her body. She found nothing and turned to me, still blocking the corpse as best she could. “Nothing on that one.” She snapped her fingers at me and stepped closer. “Hey, Princess, eyes on me. If you wouldn't feel bad about clubbing a rat that was frothing at the mouth, then don't let your mind dwell in this place. That bitch was a professional at this sort of thing, and she enjoyed her work. Thank you for getting me out of her clutches. Now... tell me, where am I, and how did you get here, and who ARE these people?”

“Who.... you have never heard of the Unseen Guild?” Imriel was whispering again.

“No, what's that?”

We had forgotten that there were things, important things, about our world that Sushulana would have had no inkling of.

“Spies, independent ones. We got in here because Melisande gave us a key to the sally port. She is one of them, and they hurt her badly for trying to do that.”

“How badly?” We could only shrug, and Sushulana rolled her eyes. “She could be faking it then. _Or not_ , relax you two... alright then, so this is a trap?” I described how we were able to sneak in, and she made a face that was part grimace, part admiration for us. “The door wasn't barred on the inside? Yeah, trap, they have something nasty waiting for us up ahead. But we can't leave Merrin with them...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes found a coil of rope in a corner of the room. “Imri, what's that look like to you? 60, 70 feet worth, maybe?”

“Mayhap. You can use that to trip some traps?”

“Nope, I've got nothing that would do a good job of blocking that sleep-inducing incense either. I think we should leave the way you came, if we can, and then come back in another way. The best way to tackle a building like this from the top down. Going up from where we are sitting is the very worst way.” She was looking much better already, and adjusted the sword belt on her hips with a grim satisfaction. “Ah, good to have a chance to justify your faith in me at last. Now, does what I said sound good to you two?”

It did, and Imriel scooped up the rope while I struggled to string that little bow. Sushulana shook her head and helped me do it with one quick jerk. I must have allowed a chagrined look to cross my face, because she dallied to arm me in a different way.

“Lets make you a little more dangerous.” She flipped open a pouch and withdrew a bit of crystal. It was a wand, but the shape of it was more akin to a chisel. The end to be pointed at the enemy was cut a bit like a chisel, and the other end was an oval that fit my palm comfortably. I was being gifted with an enchanted tool, and I smiled girlishly as as asked; “What does it do?”

“It disintegrates what you point it at.”

My smile froze in place, and Imriel hastily stepped out of the room.

“Listen to me, Highness, and listen well... I might not be around to tell you this later.” She nodded back at the dead body, the one that I had made dead. “I have killed a _lot_ of people over the years. I had to because I was too fucking stupid to know what else to do with them! You aren't that way, you have done better than I have with life. You didn't have a choice this time, but maybe next time you will. You are the smart one here... yes honey, you _are_. I love you to pieces and your gonna be the best damn Queen that Kingdom of yours ever had and nobody will ever _know_ it because the emergencies other people keep getting hit over the head with won't happen to you. You will see them coming and head them off before they become a problem, am I right Imri? Yeah, you know it, Sid here has more brains and heart than Merrin or I ever _thought_ of having. So, Princess, take a firm grip on that thing and let me show you how to use it, just in case some bastard comes along that won't give you a choice.”

There was nothing I could do after hearing that except listen and do as she said. The activation word, _Ahktiktmakt_ , was a struggle, even for one such as myself. As for aiming it, the wand itself was not important, it was what my eyes were focused on. I had to concentrate on what I wanted to destroy, and the wand had its limits. “You can take one stone at a time, but a whole wall isn't going to just go poof on your say-so. And Merrin... forget it. His Kha is so strong he could shrug it off seven times out of ten. Here, now that you can say the word, take your practice shot. That damned thing, right there.”

Sushulana pointed at the dildo firmly anchored on the floor, the one that had bruised her mouth and nearly strangled her.

What a sublime feeling of power, what a gratifying sight it was. Seeing that hateful thing crumble into a tiny pile of dust was wonderful, and it served to remind me what a horror it would be to have seen Sushulana remain in the hands of evil people.

“Ladies, _now_ , if you please!” Imriel whispered and led us to the Sally port.


	13. 38

      

 

 

 

38

 

I had myself a last look around on the way out of that room, and picked up a couple of things that I thought might be useful later on. Among these were a sheat of paper that had been folded up, cut and sewn together to form a small book, and a stylus made of two bits of wood wrapped around a rod of charcoal. I was actually thinking of Phedre when I snatched them up, and what she would make of them.

Our steps back to the sally port were unhindered by any clouds of poisonous fumes or a phalanx of leering guards. I can't say how or why this was so. Leaving only to enter again another way was certainly clever, all credit to Sushulana for thinking of that. More credit to her for not questioning us for coming alone, no even making any untoward exclamation regarding that fact... yet later she did give us a curious look when we emerged from the tunnel and saw that there was nobody at all waiting for us, not even a Marine. At the door she asked me why I had not locked the door from the inside. I showed her the key, the shape was asymmetrical, it could not tun the lock from both sides. She didn't understand that any better than Imriel did, so I explained as I shut the door behind us. “It can only be used from this side, the outside.”

“So, either they were waiting for someone to come in this way... or someone deserted ...?” An intriguing notion, Guildsmen deserting. I closed the door and broke the key off in the lock. The darkness was total once the door was closed, I had stupidly forgotten that it would be so. Sushulana took us by the hands and started leading us down the hall. Eyes that could see stars in a blue sky had no trouble in this situation, and she asked us to fill her in on what was going on.

“Sushulana, we just don't know-”

“Phaing.” She corrected me.

“But, your name!”

“Not _tonight_ , it isn't.” I could not see her face, she tightened her grip on my had with cold fingers that were still puffy. “The other word takes to long to say, and I need to be in the right frame of mind. Phaing it is, you can give me back my real name when you think I have earned it. Now tell me how they got Merrin.”

The journey out was considerably less than the half hour we had needed to crawl in. I don't know why Phaing's ignorance of the Unseen Guild unsettled me so, but it did. Mortal and fallible she may have been, what we needed that night was something more. We managed to give her the important points on the situation by the time we had left the tunnel, and crouched in the bright starlight with a refreshing ocean breeze to revive us. Phaing demanded to know why Merrin had turned himself in.

She was looking at us in that dim light, and I was certain that if I said the wrong thing, or even thought about it too earnestly, I would have distracted her, fatally. I let fly with the first sensible thought that crossed my mind' “Phaing, he's not insane.”

She allowed herself a moment, that is how she described it to me later. Phaing sank to her knees, face turned skyward with a tremulous smile on her face, eyes fluttering and then staying closed as she mouthed a few silent worlds. She drew a few deep breaths, and said to us; “I don't know the words, how to commend my soul to your Gods. What do I say?”

We pulled her to her feet and hugged her tightly between the two of us. We should have had more for her, the labors of 72 years were behind her, but there was no time.  
“I don't think that the words are what matters. What is in your heart, that is all that is important.” Imriel whispered to her.

“We can get him out of there alive, right?” Phaing whispered back.

“That remains to be seen.” I responded, and nodded up at the Fortress. There was a commotion up there, shouts and the echoes of feet pounding up and down staircases that reached us dimly over the sound of the ocean. We broke from each other and dashed to the base of the wall. By the time we arrived there, the noises had changed from a scuffle to a more celebratory air. The shouts turned to cheers, and there was much menacing laughter. None of it sounded like Merrin's distinctive voice. Phaing and myself were equally confused, but Imriel struck a fist to the wall and cursed.

“I'm guessing, but I think there was a false rescue, and Merrin has just found out what was going on. Its part of how they break a prisoner down. Su-.... Phaing, _please_ tell me you can climb a wall this sheer, somehow?”

The stonework at this level of the Fort was imperfectly yet strongly joined, farther up is was much smoother and looked impossible to climb even in the poor light. Phaing cast a spell on herself and tied the end of the rope around her hips. Then she jumped up and slapped a palm to a flat bit of stone, pausing to swing from her hand for a heartbeat. “Have a little faith.”  
Phaing climbed up the wall as a fly or a spider would, taking a path that avoided all the arrow slits and arriving at an opening large enough to qualify as a window on the fourth level.

Blithely, I took hold of the rope. It was I that would have to follow her, with Imriel below to catch me in case I lost my grip. For me, it was a near thing, arms barely strong enough to haul my body up the first level, aching along the 2nd level, and I was ready to weep at the third level. Where was that well of strength heroes in the tales could draw on at times like these? Such a mundane task, and now to be foiled like this?

For one horrible moment, I thought that I must fall or burden Imriel beyond endurance with my useless weight. Then, miraculously, my strength seemed to double, and I was able to climb up to where Phaing was waiting for me. She sat on the sill, one leg in and one leg out of the building, her hands moving as if she was helping me along with another spell. That was exactly what she was doing, making me lighter or pulling her up towards her. Once I was close enough for her to touch, she rudely grabbed me and hauled me past the sill to send me tumbling to the floor and transferred her spell to Imriel. I rolled to my feet in a room that had been used for a bunk room, but was now empty. A single candle burned near the door, showing me nothing of any interest aside from the fact that my roll had not damaged Phaing's bow. I took it from my shoulder and Imriel joined us shortly, barely winded by his exertions, while my own arms were shaking and my hair was full of my own sweat.

Through the door, we could hear the last of the horseplay going on down below. “Like a pack of Hyenas settling in for a good feeding.” Imriel grated. “It appears I was right, now they will be giving Merrin a good beating, for added misery. In a few minutes, the crowd around him will be breaking up, we should wait until then.” He rubbed and shook my arms out, and looked at Phaing. “Good idea you had, about diverting us from marching up from the Dungeon. We could have walked right into that mess, and have added ourselves to the re-capture phase of the game as an added bonus.”

Phaing only nodded and looked around for something to wear, ever the practical one. She found a sleeveless tunic and a pillow-case large enough to serve as a skirt, tucked into her belt. She pulled the lace bands from her body and held them out to me. “You never know when bandages will come in handy.” She winked at me, and added, “You know, that dress is so much sweeter without the extras.”

Imriel was playfully agreeing when he suddenly cut himself off and held up one hand. We heard what he did then; booted feet headed our way, and voices that were rowdy yet subdued by their recent exertions. Men coming off duty, and they sounded as if they were heading for this very room.  
Of course, where _else_ would they be going? While I was mentally rolling my eyes at the very Gods that Phaing had been so fervently adoring minutes ago, Imriel hissed the word “Hide!”

Where? I nearly said back to him, Imriel was already offering his suggestion. He was pointing up at the top bunk of a rack that was three high. Up I went, laying flat on the top bunk with the bow across my chest and one arrow in my hand. I saw Imriel stand at the wall where he would be hidden by the opening door. I did not see where Phaing hid, I don't think she did bother to make much of an effort.

The latch on the door rattled, and I willed myself still, flat as I could possibly be on the bunk just inches above the top of a man's head. I could see the shadows and light cast upward onto the ceiling, and that was all I would see until I revealed myself.

What I heard was muffled voices, buckles coming loose and some shuffling, and then a gasp as one noticed something wrong. Ah, but of course, we had left the rope dangling from the window.

“Hullo boyz,” Phaing cooed to draw their attention. Imriel slammed the door shut a heartbeat later, and the ugly sound of close-quarters fighting filled my ears. Imriel quickly killed his first man, and by quickly I mean that it was over before a coin dropped at waist-height could reach the floor. He drove his sword into the next man, and his blade caught fast in the rib cage. That man raised his own sword to strike back before he died, forcing Imriel to let go of his long blade and draw his daggers instead.

For reasons of her own, Phaing elected to use magic instead of her weapons. I believe she was still aching from her time in the Dungeon, and climbing that wall didn't help her condition. She was using the same telekinetic force that had helped us earlier to force a hastily drawn dagger toward the throat of the Guard that held it. In that man's other hand was a crossbow which was not cocked and was held by end of the stock. The desperate Guard swept it up and smashed the mechanical end of the weapon across Phaing's face. The blow knocked her completely around and left her slumped over the windowsill, half in and half out. Instead of finishing her, that Guard turned to face Imriel.

The man with the bisected rib cage was falling to the floor, but Imriel had a 4th man to deal with. With the arrival of the man that Phaing should have put down, Imriel had to take a step back, and this was when the fourth man grabbed the door and yanked it open again. One good shout, and the game would be over for us.

I saw the door open, and so I sat up, drew my bow and fired one arrow into the Guard before he could shout. From 3 paces away I could not miss, my arrow went through his throat just under the hinge of his chin and exiting through the other side at the same place. It was horrid, seeing his eyes bulge and his mouth working over and over as he died on his feet. He could not shout, but the noises coming form him were ghastly... if quiet enough to fail as an alarm.

I would have fallen back into the bunk, hurling the bow away from me and covering my eyes against a sight that would haunt me for years. I would have, if Imriel was not still fighting to put that last man down. I looked that way, and as I did, I saw Phaing's body starting to slip from the sill, and slide out towards a drop that would surely have killed her. Launching myself from the bunk, I landed at her feet in time to haul her back into the room. Her slight weight was no difficulty for me in my agitated state, and she was already coming awake when I sat her on the floor, eyes opening and her voice sounding slurred. Imriel's last foe was hitting the floor before I sat Phaing down, and he quickly looked out the door, closed it and snatched up that stubbornly burning candle to join me at her side.

The right side of her face looked fine to me, yet when she shook her head to clear it, I caught flashes of something that made a shocking whine come from my mouth. Phaing was shocked as well, by me, and tried to ask what was wrong, but all that came out was “uts shrong?”

Imriel's candle make it all too clear. The crossbow had caught her with either the stirrup used to help cock it, or the iron banding at the end of bow. Her cheek had been torn wide open, large L-shaped flap of skin was hanging down. The result was hideous, I could see her teeth, and her tongue worked to test the wound from the inside, and found nothing there.  
Phaing would never be beautiful again, not unless that healing ring was everything she claimed it was. Yet, despite that, and the pain she must have been feeling, her eyes went wide as she described the true horror of the situation;

“ _I han't hronounce my sphells_!”


	14. 39

  

 

 

 

39

 

Imriel may have been able to climb back down the rope, but neither Phaing nor myself had the strength for that again.

This was my first thought as I swallowed the fact that our greatest weapon, so recently won, had been dashed away by a lucky blow struck in panic by some lowly Guard. Phaing's magic could have cut a swath through the Fortress and perhaps even have regained Merrin, still in his bonds.  
Now what?

I shook my head back and forth, as if that could send the cowardly thoughts out of my mind, and knelt to tend to Phaing. Imriel took one look at her and went hunting about for a needle and thread, until Phaing herself snapped her fingers and stopped him. “nno tiimg”, no time. She was right, things had settled down in the Fortress as the of-shift found their rest. I used some of the discarded lace to wrap Phaing's face as Imriel paced and voiced his thoughts quietly.

“They will be interrogating Merrin soon, or simply gloating in his presence. They won't be allowing him any sleep, not so soon. He could be on his way to a torture chamber by now.... no. No, I don't think they will risk that yet. They won't want to alienate him so completely unless they have no choice. And they had Phaing, down there. That may prove to be enough, in their minds, to break him.” Imriel checked the door again, and returned to us. “I think I know where they are, or will be shortly. That grand room with the conference table. They will try to reason with him, over Tea and Pastries perhaps,” that got an involuntary and silent laugh from Phaing, as well a painful wince, “and they will make their play, whatever it is. Sidonie, remember how that room was shaped? No windows, there will be lamps burning. To keep the air clear, they would have to rely on that circular staircase open at the top. That would be just one floor down from here... if we can get down there and pick the right room, we can surprise them.”

Phaing nodded. “Souns ood-” and winced again, she had bitten the flap of skin as it fell into her mouth. Groaning in pain and frustration, she stood with a little help from me and retrieved her bow. She also reached into my dress and fished out the wand, placing it firmly in my hand. I hefted the smooth crystal and nodded.

Imriel lead the way out into the hall, followed by Phaing and then myself. Imriel had his sword in his left hand and a dagger held ready to throw in his right. Phaing had one arrow ready on the bowstring, protecting me as I had the most powerful weapon in this whole Fortress, hopefully.

Once we had found our way to the Staircase, we were on familiar ground again, and there was nobody in sight to stop us. On the third floor, Imriel peered around the balustrade to see what was happening on the 2nd floor. The bronze-banded doors were shut tight, a good sign that his hunch was correct. There were no Guards there, which I thought odd until I mentally calculated how many would be present on each shift. Minus the three we had killed in the Dungeon, there may be as few as ten fighting men on each of two shifts. Four on watch above and four below at the gates, that would leave 2 for patrolling or inside that room, in addition to Chalcondyles and Dikaios... the coldly brutal Voz would either be there, or off-shift and resting before taking over at dawn.

I reminded myself that there was likely to be another nasty surprise in that room, something I could not foresee. Indeed there was, several in fact, more terrible than I could have imagined. But for the time being, Imriel happily lead us to the door on this floor that he estimated would lead to the room at the top of that circular staircase. Before opening it, he looked to Phaing and nodded at the keyhole. She crept up and looked inside for a long moment, and then went flat on the floor to look under the gap there. Instead of trying to speak, she pantomimed what she saw, starting by holding up one finger. Then Phaing stood, one side to us, holding her bow sideways and down, a bemused look on her face. She then tapped her bare foot on the flooring in front of us, in a round pattern.

One man, with a Crossbow, standing at the top of the staircase observing what was going on with some satisfaction. And with a chill, I noticed that Phaing and Imriel were both looking at me.

A Bow is not a silent weapon, and a body tumbling down those stairs would alert everyone in the very room we were so desperate to reach. The wand was our only hope, and I dare not trust it to Imriel after the way he had failed to master a single word of Carthaginian. I took up position in the doorway as Imriel eased the latch open and then pushed the door wide open. I looked at the Guard, I had to, just an ordinary man who's bemused look was just beginning to be replaced by panic as he turned to face us. His mouth was opening, crossbow swinging up at me... slowly, far too slowly.

I heard Phaing's bow creak next to me, the sound spurring me to action, and I spoke the word.

Man, armor, and crossbow ceased to be. Nothing was left but a man-shaped shadow of dust that feel to the floor without a sound. The third life I had snuffed out in an hour, and the hardest for me to think about, later.

Phaing darted into the room, aiming at the corner of the chamber she had not been able to see from her limited view. Ah, so she had not been putting tension on her bow because she thought I might hesitate, that thought helped banish the frosty self-loathing in my heart, some little measure of it. Imriel put one arm over my shoulders and swept me into the room, quietly closing the door behind us.

Very quietly, as the sound of voices reached us from the room below as soon as we were inside. Merrin's wounded baritone could be made out, as well as several other voices. I wanted to go straight to the stairs, but Imriel guided me to a table where Phaing had paused, and for good reason. There were several of those little one-hand crossbows laying there, in pieces. These new weapons were still having teething problems, proving balky in use, and two of them had been taken apart to make a third one serviceable with the scavenged parts. Phaing understood the workings of it at a glance. She cocked it and loaded it with the last dart from a leather pouch. She handed it to Imriel, but after several frustrating attempts to instruct him without being able to speak, she took it back and slung her bow over one shoulder. Phaing held the little crossbow in her left, and drew her Kilidj with her right.

We all crept to the place where the guard had been, and crouched at the top of the stairs. Kneeling with our shins flat to the floor, and crouched so that our chests were on our knees, we beheld the scene below.

 

* * *

“... even less chance outside these walls than you do within. We are everywhere. Opposed to each other, we can only destroy each other. Together we make the world anew. Why can you not see it our way for just a moment?” Ptolemy Dikaios sat at the head of the table, the farthest end from us. His poise was confident, his voice resonant and pitched to reach out with reason and compassion. “By all accounts, you are highly intelligent, unlike your fellow traveler. She is being disciplined as we speak, I do hope and pray that such measures are not necessary with you. In fact, I rather doubt their efficacy in your case.”

Merrin was seated at his right, several places down. He looked terrible, the effects of his silver bonds were still evident, and he had recently taken a beating that left his face swollen. Half of the left side of his mustache had been torn away, leaving a patch dark with congealing blood in its place. They had dressed him in a grimy tunic and ragged trousers, common prison garb. The rod at the back of his collar had been replaced with a heavy leather brace that made it nearly impossible for him to turn his head. Other straps held him to his chair around his chest, and his left arm. His right arm had been left free, and in his right hand was a crystal goblet ¼ filled with Brandy.

I thought it foolish of Merrin to sip from that glass, and then saw that Dikaios had one as well, as did Chalcondyles, seated at Ptolemy's left and facing Merrin across the table.

There were three other people in the room, wearing the armor and tunics of the Guards of this Fortress. Hrolvath stood on Merrin's side of the table, affecting a casual air while keeping his distance from the Dragon. The other man was seated with his back to us, I could not make out anything noteworthy about him, and the third was a woman, seated next to Chalcondyles.

“Anna Marzoni!” Imriel let out a strangled gasp, barely audible even as close as I was to him. I shook my head, wondering who he meant. “Gilot's woman, Tiber.”

Now I understood. She had blamed Imriel for Gilot's tragic death, something dear Imri also felt responsible for. He had left her a means to provide for herself, and then he had left Tiber forever. Anna had not taken the loss of her handsome D'Angeline well, as things had turned out. With her access to our Embassy, she would have been a fine recruit for the Unseen Guild. The city-state of Lucca was an influential one, more so after they had absorbed leaderless Valpetra. Gilot had died a hero there, what connections had she been able to exploit from that legacy? And there was more; I turned to Imriel and my lips silently formed the word _Belinda_ ?

He nodded. “Her daughter.”

Twelve years old, perhaps, and already being raised in the ways of an agent of the Guild. Effectively so, she had nearly ruined our chance to put things right, and earned Melisande the enmity of her own Guild.

“Not... everywhere.” Merrin grated, when he had finished with his brandy, and set the glass down on the table with such precision that I did not hear it clink on the hard surface.

“Ah, but we _are_ , now.” Chalcondyles sneered. There was nothing respectful or wary of Merrin in his mien. “Hrolvath here will give us access to Skaldia, Anna here is part of a sophisticated network in Caerdicci lands, and as for Terre D'Ange, allow me to re-introduce you to Hugues of Montreve,”

What a terrible night this continued to be.

I put my fingers to Imriel's lips to stifle the groan I knew was coming, and looked to Phaing to measure her reaction. She was thrilled, and fascinated, to see Merrin sane and lucid. In her mind, her faith in us, our world, and our Gods perhaps, and been fully justified, and more swiftly than she could have hoped. She had been silently joyful, until the words Hugues of Montreve caught hold of her attention. I have no doubt that if she had still had command of her spells, she would have rushed right in and ended the situation very quickly. However, she did not. Any Guild member who saw her silver cuffs still in place would falsely arrive at the truth of her situation....

… falsely arriving at the truth...

My heart skipped a beat, and then did so again. What if the truth could lead them to a falsehood?

An idea blossomed in my mind, diamond bright and giving me the sort of thrill that Phedre herself must have felt she conceived of how she could corner Melisande in the temple of Asherat of the Sea, or one of her clever escapes. More swiftly than words can say, my mind assembled disparate pieces and assembled them into a whole that formed a weapon that I could use to defeat the Unseen Guild at their own game. I felt brilliant, illuminated from within, but there was only time to blink my eyes in a quick prayer of thanks to Elua. There was certainly no time to savor the sensation.

I put my hands on the backs of the necks of Imriel and Phaing, and pulled them in close so that I could whisper into their ears in a voice so low and swift I could barely hear it myself. “I know how to win this, and ruin the Guild in the process, reduce them to something we need never fear again. But you must let this be my sort of battleground. You both must have perfect faith in me, more total than you ever had before, and let me talk to them.”

Phaing nodded automatically, and I felt a pang of remorse nearly sharp enough to make me hesitate. The horror of Hugues's betrayal left Imriel ready to clutch at anything that could save the situation, and distract him from what this could lead to. He would have to make this known to his foster Parents, and to Ti-Philippe as well, a dreadful responsibility. What this _could_ mean was irredeemable disgrace for the House of Montreve, depending on how deep his treachery went. Imriel, as upset as he was, also inclined his head. If I could mitigate this disaster, he was all in favor of it.

  
Hugues himself had risen whilst I was thinking and whispering. The outwardly simple and content man showed a side of himself he had never revealed in Terre D'Ange. Or, perhaps he had, one dark night, to Ti-Phillipe, and kept hidden ever since. His longing to do great deeds, his yearning for younger and more sophisticated lovers than the rough-hewn and unchanging man who had brought him into the very house that had expanded his horizons so... and his greed. We missed nothing of importance while I whispered, it was all rather trite and Hugues was simply venting bile in a place that he thought would hold his secrets forever. Three years, he had been in their service for three years, expanding their contacts and rising in the ranks, bidding his time. “And to think, before you happened along, my greatest coupe had been accompanying their mail, making copies, and putting the Comtess's ramblings into more worthy hands.”

Merrin, still clinging to what dignity he had left, had not looked at Hugues until that moment. He could not turn his head, so he cast Hugues a sidelong glance and arched one eyebrow. His voice was low and required some effort to force out, but his words carried to us up the stairs as relentlessly as ocean waves. “What do you take me for? If I know that House well enough to know who _you_ are, I also know that there are no more worthy hands than those of the foremost scholar of her age. And take my advice; the path to greatness has nothing to do with mocking other people's _good_ ness.”

“How little you truly know, old Dragon. Minds free of guilt, unshackled by superstition or baseless shame are far more worthy. Minds than can exploit knowledge properly, and fully.” He bowed to Chalcondyles and Dikaios at the end of the table and took his seat on the same side of the table as Anna, a respectable three seats away. She, ironically, was senior to him, with more than double his time as a member of the Guild in good standing.

Chalcondyles nodded to the fawning Hugues, and spoke directly to Merrin. “A rather interesting night for you, Highness?” Not Emperor, but Highness, as if holding out the hope that Merrin could regain former glories with this group. Anna rose and refilled Merrin's glass from a decanter, adding a little substance to the illusion. “Your rescuers turn out to be something else entirely, and the man they killed breaking you out of that cell makes a startling recovery.” He nodded to Hrolvath, who was stained by fake blood about his throat. “Poor Sushulana, did you get close enough to hear her cursing her tormentors? No? Pity, I enjoyed her foul mouth on the battlement more than I did when I was slapping it to awaken her.”

Dikaios held up a hand to take his turn. “We would rather not be doing any of these things, despite what you may think. The hour grows late, and we would all rather be elsewhere. You, in a suitable room, with that _Alfar_ safe at your side, or at your feet, it matters not to us. What we need is for you to swear to uphold our aims, to work with us-”

“Your aims remain too vague for me to even consider.”

“That is unfortunate. You must understand that the man who just spoke,” he nodded at Hugues, “is but the chink in the armor that allowed us to slip into the City of Elua. Imagine if you will, the tragedies that could before the Great Houses of Montreve and Courcel. Only a few casualties and both families would be irreparably damaged.”

Imriel rose smoothly to his feet, and I along with him. Phaing was slower, and blocked our path. Her hands were filled with weaponry, as were Imriel's, and she raised her sword and shook her head, then nodded to me. My plan, she wanted to remind us, and then rubbed her face with her elbow, making a smooth mask of it.

Yes, we understood. And the conversation below continued.

“And?” Merrin asked. “You think that I would aid you freely to avoid such a thing? You really think that they, or Sushulana, would want me to be your cats-paw, your weapon against the world, in return for their safety?”

“Yes, I do. For their sake, and their children. We are not monsters, we simply strive to make this world more sensible.”

“More words of wisdom, spoken in perfect candor?” The captive Dragon sneered as best his puffy face could manage. “I know of you people, I have for some time. Even if I did not, every world has your sort, lurking in dark corners. Even your lack of an overriding code does not make you unique. _Don't deny it_! Your recruitment method tells the tale; you offer a glimpse into your spy craft, dangle empowerment before those you would wish to enlist, rather than trying to beguile them with some sort of Philosophy, your goals, or some high-minded vision of the future. The reason that you do not is because you don't _have_ any. Self-enrichment is the sum total of all you have to offer! That is why good men such as Delauney and Imriel turn their backs to you, only the lost and the lame can be seduced by you. Cease and desist, your prattle is beyond boring to me.” Merrin looked to the ceiling, shutting Dikaios out.

I began to admire Merrin in that moment.

With a glance, the elder Ptolemy passed the interrogation back to Chalcondyles. “I should be grateful that you have made clear to me that your willing cooperation in this is out of the question. We were prepared for this, from the outset.” He smiled at Anna, who withdrew a small metallic sliver from her lap and set it down on the table.

Imriel inhaled, silently (thank the gods) and I knew from his reaction what that thing must be. A month of madness had been inflicted on him with it, or one like it. Merrin's eyes told us that he knew, as well, and his reaction was to laugh at it. Helpless as he was, he drained his glass and tossed it away over his shoulder. “So, you would replace my _faux_ madness with the real thing, temporarily. What's that going to achieve for you and your little schemes?”

I nodded for the Alfar to go ahead, and grabbed Imriel to whisper something more to him, dire things. He was shocked by me, what I wanted him to do. No other man on Earth would have considered my plan for a moment, nor any woman. He hesitated for a heartbeat, two, then slowly nodded. He seemed pale even in the poor light, and well me might. I had never, and never shall again, demand so much of his faith in me as I did in that moment.

Phaing began padding down the stairs, and we followed, Imriel last as he left his boots behind.

“Oh, we have many other such devices, and an operative that has become skilled in their use.” He inclined his head to Anna, who brought a roll of red felt out of her lap and unrolled it on the table. There was a gleam in her eyes that matched the gleam of the tiny, wicked bits of enchanted or envenomed metal she revealed. She passed her hand over the deadly collection and was about to begin explaining the purpose and function of those items. We did not give her the chance.

We had moved slowly and carefully down the shadowy stairs, any swift movement could have drawn eyes to us, even if only Dikaios was facing us directly. Once we were on the floor we all strode forward with Phaing in the lead, Kilidj held low with the blade held sharp edge upwards and the little crossbow held out menacingly. Imriel was on her left, sword in his left had, and sheathing his dagger to free his right hand, and I was on Phaing's right with the wand in hand.

“ _Hands on the table, all of you_!” Imriel's voice sliced like a razor through the room, not loudly yet perfectly pitched.

Dikaios froze in place, eyes revealing nothing but an intense interest in us and the understanding that his life was in deadly peril. Merrin was just as immobile, showing a flash of hope, amazement, and then disappointment. I think he had been preparing himself to die, determined to die well. How dare we spoil his denouement with some risky scheme of rescue?

If he had known _how_ risky I was about to make it...

Chalcondyles was badly startled, and looked as if he were hosting his version of the Midwinter Ball and the roof was just falling in on his guests. Hrolvath was just making himself comfortable in his chair, and was slapping his hands to the table even as Imriel commanded him to do so. Hugues half-rose from his seat, turning to regard us with quivering eyes until Imriel kicked his chair up against the table. The detestable traitor doubled over the edge of the table, palms slapping the surface conveniently. Anna Marzoni glanced at us, clearly terrified, and then at the metal shards at her fingertips. She thought better of it as Phaing pointed the little crossbow at her face.

“No Anna, I wouldn't.” I said in my most condescending way. “It would be a waste of valuable materials, and all will be revealed soon, never fear.”

  
Phaing blinked, and here eyes flickered at me just in time to see me place the tip of the wand to her throat. Her eyes went wide as my free hand found her elbow and I dug my fingernails into the arm holding her sword. She had no chance to react before Imriel wrenched the little crossbow out of her hand and stepped in behind her.

“Drop the blade, witch.” I hissed at her. “You're finished, your game ends here.” In a lower, and very sharp voice, I added just one word;

“ _submit_!”

 

END OF PART III


End file.
